


Mad Men

by Magpies_Treasury



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Blind!Jim, Dirty Cop!Seb, Disability, Discrimination, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Multi, Organized Crime, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 05:11:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 72,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7702039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magpies_Treasury/pseuds/Magpies_Treasury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian Moran is plenty comfortable with his life, taking bribes from the two major criminal organizations in town, run by Magnussen and Holmes, leaves him sitting pretty. When he meets Jim, Magnussen's boy, it throws everything into confusion. Magnussen practically raised Jim, has given him everything -- independence, money, power, and plenty of puzzles to play with... but he can't stop coming back to the stupid police man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thought He was Just a Kid- Not Your Kid

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I promise I am still working on editing SERE, I just left my job under bad circumstances and I'm actually on vacation right now! When I get back I'll be starting a new job so I can't make any promises on updates but know that I am trying. If you've read any of our other works before you'll have an idea of what to expect. Setting this in the 1960s, there are a lot of instances of period-typical discrimination that make me cringe a little. Of course neither of us hold any of these beliefs when it comes to LGBT people, sex workers, the Irish, or people with disability. When writing Jim I did as much research as I could, including reading what visually impaired authors had to say about writing blind characters, what kind of injuries and disease cause vision impairment, and reading/discussing what day to day life is like for people who are visually impaired. There were not very many aids available to the visually impaired in the 1960s but we've done our best to hopefully create a sensitive and reasonably realistic portrait of what Jim might be like in theses specific circumstances. 
> 
> The title is a WIP, I realized we wrote this whole fic without naming it. I watched six seasons or so of Mad Men to get a feel for the time period, I believe Legend was also used as reference material for both of us. -Magpie

Jim sighed as he supervised the product being moved from the back of the van into their dealer’s car. “Hurry the fuck up, I haven’t got all day.” Jim snapped. Magnussen trusted him with jobs like this now, and Jim had to be perfect. The product had to get where it needed to go, no hiccups, no stolen goods, no problems. He stood there in a leather jacket to keep out the cold, his hair combed back, and large sunglasses covered his eyes. The trunks of the two cars slammed shut and Jim grinned. “Beautiful people, beautiful. Pleasure doing business with you, we look forward to getting your call when it’s time for another shipment.” He could hear a car pulling up to their area quickly, not far away at all. “Someone’s here. Clean up right the fuck now.” Suddenly the sirens went off and Jim could hardly hear anything else over the noise, while the other men quickly got into their cars and sped away ahead of the detectives who were just behind them. “Fuck,” he muttered when he realized that his driver had left him there. Fucking brilliant.

The information received hadn't been that great to start with and Sebastian Moran wouldn't have even been bothered to follow it up if he hadn't been so close to losing his job already. When he saw the waiting cars he perked up, even more so when he noticed that they'd left someone behind. Giving a grin he stepped out of the car, motioning for the surprised looking young copper he'd bought with him to stay where he was, and heading out. There was only one person left, a young man who seemed far too calm given the surrounding police cars and Sebastian circled him, giving a laugh and slapping him on the rear, "Alright, who are you with then - CAM or the Holmes boys? If I were you I'd hope it was the latter; I got a good backhander from them last week and I'm feeling generous about it.”

The man circled him and Jim gave a snarl and turned his head in the man’s direction as he slapped his arse, then he got control of himself and smiled. “You’re lucky, I’m feeling generous too. How about I show you how generous I’m feeling on my knees?” He needed to be let go preferably without giving away his boss’ identity, and definitely without being charged.

Sebastian blinked, looking down at him and then shrugging. He hadn't been expecting to find anything, and to find a young man who seemed ready and willing to go down on him was an unexpected bonus. Grabbing the young man's upper arm, he dragged him back towards the car, opening the back door and pushing him in, "Alright, there you go. Lestrade?" The young policeman in the front turned around with a confused and slightly disgusted expression, "Fuck off, alright? Walk home. I'll be busy in here for a bit. Questioning a suspect." He gave Jim and wink and then pushed in next to him as Lestrade got out, "Alright, you better have meant that, because you're about to do it.”

Jim made a noise of surprise when the man wrapped a hand around his upper arm and started dragging him along. He tripped over his own feet a little but managed to keep upright, mostly because the detective was holding him up. A car door opened and then suddenly he was falling, Jim gasped and stuck his hands out, catching himself on the leather seats. Being put in the back of the detective’s car might have been counterproductive to his original goal. There was another detective, Lestrade who left, shutting the door with a thud as the rude detective sat down next to him in the car. “Yeah, I meant it.” Jim reached out tentatively, feeling for his leg and then sliding his fingertips up his thigh and towards his crotch. “If you keep this off the books, so will I. You’ll take me home when I’m done.”

"Wha - yeah, yeah, course I'll take you home." The last person he'd slept with had been a bored and semi-unwilling rent boy of CAM's who'd stayed resolutely quiet and sulky through the whole ordeal. Suddenly an eager little nark in the back of a car seemed an attractive proposition, with an edge of excitement and danger. Reaching up he undid his trousers, sliding them down and tugging out his cock, grinning and gently slapping Jim in the face with it, "Alright kid, there you go. Earn it, yeah? And I'll take you home and maybe slip you a tenner.”

Jim’s hand followed his thigh over to his cock after he unzipped his trousers and hit him in the face with it. God Jim hated him already. His smile faltered a little as he felt the size of him, Jim could smell him as he took off his sunglasses and closed his eyes, bending forward over the seat so that he could wrap his mouth around the cock in his hand. It /was/ large but Jim was not without experience. He fit as much as he could in his mouth, wetting him with his spit and stroked the rest with his hand, cupping him to massage the detective’s balls and get him hard. “Any preferences?” Jim asked.

Sebastian gave a little groan, letting his head fall back and frowning as Jim spoke, "Uh... blowjob?" He hazarded, not aware that preferences went any further than that. He was a pretty thing, Sebastian had to admit, even if he had no idea what the boy was doing here in the middle of a street mixed up with drugs, "So... will I be... unh that's good... seeing you again? Y-you know. Around. Do this sort of thing a lot? Bec'se - a-ahhhh - if you wanted a few more police-free nights we could easily... arrange... f-fuck that's good…"

“I’ll make sure to call you if I am ever in need of rescuing,” Jim said sarcastically before going down on him again, swallowing around his length and bobbing his head. He kept pushing until he swallowed all of him, his nose pressed against the detective’s pubes and he faked a groan, mostly because he knew the vibrations could feel pretty incredible.

Sebastian neither knew nor cared whether anything Jim was doing was fake or real - he wasn't sure, thinking back, that he'd ever had an experience with another man that hadn't involved some sort of ulterior motive. He gave a groan and, as Jim bobbed away, grabbed at his hair, "A-ahh y-you know, w-we could get a good thing going..." he moaned before, with no real warning, he came hard down Jim’s mouth, "Unh... f-fuck... you have a lovely little mouth. Proper pretty thing. What'r you smuggling drugs for, hmm?”

Jim did not like the hand in his hair, controlling his movements and pushing him down. He knew, a few moments before that the man was going to come but he pushed his head down and Jim had to swallow frantically to keep from choking. He paused, and wiped at his mouth to make sure he got everything before sitting up and putting his sunglasses back on. “You’re dirty, my boss might be interested in having someone like you on payroll. I’ll mention you to him and he’ll be in touch if he’s interested. And I smuggle drugs because it’s better than sucking cock. You said you would take me home?”

Sebastian gave a few gasps, taking a moment to compose himself and then doing his trousers up, "Well. Now I know who your boss is, because I'm already on the payroll of the other one." He gave a grin, patted Jim's hair, and then tugged a tenner out of his pocket, patting it into Jim’s hand. "And yeah, I'd be interested, if he wants a bent copper." Getting out he swung himself into the front seat with a grin, "Alright then, where to, squire?”

Jim gave him the address, and sat back. “You got some gum? Or a smoke?” The taste in his mouth was just — unpleasant and distracting. He didn’t like to give away free favors- the ten pound note notwithstanding. “Where did you get your tip-off from anyway?”

"Where did the tip off come from? Now that would just be telling. Ha." Driving away, Sebastian fumbled in the glove compartment with one hand, flinging a packet of cigarettes into the back of the car. "There you go, matches are in the back somewhere, take a look for them. No more than one, you greedy little shit, I have to pay for those." He added as a final warning, heading towards the address given. "Wasn't one of your boys though, if you really are CAMs.”

It was probably Holmes then, that fucker. The cigarettes bounced off of his chest and landed in his lap. He took one out and rolled the window down while he felt around for the matches. Jim hit something with his foot and found the soft thin cardboard of a matchbox. He lit the match and held the cigarette in his mouth towards the heat. “Ouch!” He hissed when the flame burned the match down towards his fingers and he dropped it. Jim took a drag and blew the smoke out the window angrily. “Thanks for the smoke. If only everyone at the yard was so accommodating…”

"Don't set yourself on fire." Seb gave a laugh, winding his own window down as well, "Yeah well, you've got to find the right screw, and give them the right thing. You try with some keen young thing like Lestrade, ha, the first time that boy was in a police station it was on the wrong side of the bars, so fuck knows what he's so high and mighty about. But yeah, he's still new, still green, still convinced he can make the world a better place. Whereas me? I know how things work a bit more. And they work pretty damn well with your boss and the Holmes boys ruling the streets, better equipped and better funded than we'll ever be.”

“It’s so wonderful to be appreciated.” Jim said neutrally, with a dry tone. He didn’t really want to talk with this man anymore. Jim was grateful for his corruptibility but he was a complete cock and he wasn’t interested in getting to know him or making small talk, however much the detective might want Jim to give him another blow job. “I need to know your name if I’m going to speak with my boss.”

"Moran - your boss'll know the name. He might have known it a bit sooner if he had a nice piece of tail for a younger brother." Sebastian drew up outside the house and frowned, "This is? Bit... small. Still you're not one of the big boys, or you'd have a file. Go on then, fuck off. And send my regards to your boss. I'd give him some information but, you know, I tend to go a bit quiet in the absence of large piles of money." Reaching back, he politely undid the lock on Jim's door, “Scoot."

Moran was irritating and boring and Jim was already thinking of ways to downplay this situation with Mags so that he could come out in a better light. The car stopped, Moran unlocked his door and Jim stepped out, turning his head towards the open window where he was sure Moran was still watching him. “I’m make sure to let him know. We’ll be in touch, maybe.” Jim reached in his inside coat pocket and pulled out his collapsible cane, letting it snap to its full length and he swung it in front of him lazily as he walked towards his house. He never used the cane on jobs, in his mind it was unprofessional and the little shits thought they could get away with stuff just because he couldn’t see. Jim was going to roast his guide for driving away without him. He reached the fence and could guess from the familiar uneven stones under his feet that this was his place, Jim fished his keys out of his pocket so that he could let himself in.

"Yeah I hope so - keep that hot little mouth of yours busy." Sebastian called out of the window after him, faltering just a little as he saw the young man pull out an extendible cane. Was he, was he blind? Surely not, but Sebastian frowned and worried at the question all the way back to the police station. He decided as he drove up to it that it didn't matter - odds were he'd never see the boy again anyway. He parked the car then headed into the station, throwing the keys at Lestrade who demanded, "Well?"

"Yeah, yeah, one of CAMs. he gave me a blow job in the back and I let him go." Sebastian grinned at Lestrade's spluttering outraged expression and headed into his office, shutting the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

Jim called Magnussen and told him what happened, tattling happily on that idiot who left him at the scene. Jim was more valuable to Magnussen than some idiot who just drove him around and acted as his guide. Jim didn’t need him though, he’d made that clear over and over again but Mags would just pat his head and shush him. It was infuriating. Jim was waiting now in Mag’s office, perched on his desk and pouting. He’d tried to talk the man out of inviting that detective back here, but Mags wanted information on Holmes and the detective was already in his pocket. Jim understood the logic but he didn’t like men like this, the ones that were only loyal for money. Anyone could come along and offer them more with better booze and better women and they would turn on you. “He’s an idiot. And a cock. I think you’re making a mistake.” Jim was allowed to get mouthy with Magnussen sometimes, he never knew if this was going to be one of those times or not. He was wearing a button up shirt and braces today, with his sleeves rolled up, he forewent the glasses usually when he was inside.

"Yes, yes, you've told me, hmm?" Magnussen said indulgently, patting at Jim's hair and then moving the hand down to stroke his thigh gently, "We don't need him for much, do we? Just to tell us things he'll find out through his job, that's all. I won't be giving him a car and driver." Now that he felt comfortably in control of Jim he didn't always feel the need or desire to fuck him, sex was generally very low down on the list of things that Magnussen wanted from anyone - there were far more important thing to gain. He looked up as the door opened and Sebastian walked in, managing to control his sneer at another big rough policeman-for-hire. "Mr. Moran?" He paused, Sebastian was looking at Jim with an air of incredulity, and also looking slightly worried, "Mr. Moran!" He snapped finally.

Seb turned to him, hesitating, frowning and then pointing at Jim with, "Is he blind? Seriously fucking blind?”

Jim turned his head to where he remembered Magnussen standing and raised an eyebrow, his hand was still on Jim’s thigh so it was easy to tell where he was more or less. “See? I told you he was an idiot.” Jim stayed where he was seated but turned his head in the direction of the door, eyes pointed generally where he guessed Sebastian’s head would be, guessing his height from the weight and heaviness of his steps. “Yes, I’m blind, no I can’t see you, no I’ve not always been blind, yes I’m okay, no it’s not contagious, fuck you.”

"Yeah well it's a good job it's not contagious given I had my cock halfway down your fucking throat, isn't it?” Sebastian growled, rattled enough to find he seemed to have managed a dalliance with Magnussen's favourite, let alone that the boy had something strange about him.

"Did you?" Magnussen asked, interested before giving Jim's thigh a little pinch and then another pat, "Well. That won't happen again. Inspector Moran - you have information, I'd like to buy it. This is very simple and doesn't require any personal slights at all, see?" His fingers pinched at Jim's leg again.

Jim scowled as Magnussen repeatedly pinched his thigh. He could tell from his tone of voice that he was unhappy, it was a subtle thing but you learned to listen for it when there was no facial expression to read. Jim’s father told him that Magnussen wasn’t all that expressive anyway. “Yes of course, sir.” Jim muttered, squirming plaintively on the desk when Magnussen pinched his thigh again. Mags rarely used him anymore but Jim had no problem occasionally doing things to remind him why he was Mag’s favorite.

Sebastian frowned a little, not particularly liking the association of the hot dirty little blowjob he'd had the night before with somebody's pet kept rent-boy and made a little unhappy sound before continuing, "Yeah, well, it's not just money is it. I'd rather not mind myself waking up one day with no fucking kneecaps, or chained to the wall in someone's basement with one of your bastard nonce cases and a length of chain. Not just money. You know I do backhanders for everyone, and I'd like some reassurance that you're not going to give out with one hand when I help you and take away with another when I help the Holmes's - ah leave the kid alone. It was dark, his ride had fucked off and I took full advantage. Fucking enjoyed it, even if I'm not sure he did."

Magnussen's fingers stopped pinching and scratching at the now red patch and skin on Jim's inner thigh and Magnussen regarded Sebastian critically, "You're trying to play an interesting game, Mr. Moran, and you don't play it very well. Wasn't your father a Lord?”

Jim’s mouth quirked in amusement, this man was playing a stupid game if he thought that he could make terms with Mags. Maybe the Holmes bitch was more accommodating. He didn’t want to speak out of turn again, but he was vaguely interested in Moran’s status, how he ended up in this situation when everything should have been handed to him on a fucking silver spoon. “Happy to please. He gave me a tenner, very thoughtful.” Jim couldn’t help laughing, Magnussen paid him well, or at least provided for him, he never wanted for anything.

"Yeah well I thought you were a -"

Was as far as Sebatian got before Magnussen laid a hard slap down onto the sore skin, tutting at Jim's laughter and then gently bending down to murmur in his ear. "Behave. We have talked before about this. Now... would you like to go and find something to do while the grown-ups talk?" He'd never quite got over treating Jim like a child, but not only that he wanted Sebastian to be on his own, to be able to direct the conversation his own way. Lowering his voice even further he whispered, "Listen at the door, little cat, tell me the thing he isn't saying when he speaks."

Sebastian frowned as Jim padded off, "Thought he was just a kid - not _your_ kid." He muttered resentfully as Magnussen waved his arms and long fingers around.

”Not at all, not at all, mistakes are easily made, speaking of which, how _is_ your father?”

Jim heard the slap coming before it landed and made himself hold still, when he didn’t know where a blow was aimed, trying to move away often times just made it worse. He sat resentfully on the desk, listening to Magnussen’s directions and standing with a, “tch.” Before walking confidently to the door. He knew Magnussen’s office very well and he trusted that Sebastian would move out of his way if he needed to. He’d known Magnussen since he was a little kid and his father brought him to work some times when his ma was ill or couldn’t take care of him during the day. He still had those memories of the man with white hair and squinty eyes, his tongue darting out to dry his lips. Then Jim had lost his sight. He’d officially become Charles’ _boy_ when he was seventeen and they had been in this weird relationship for three years. Occasionally he pimped Jim out but for the most part Jim was allowed to do what he wanted with his body, unless Magnussen was in a mood, then Jim was expected to drop everything. For the most part he did. He stopped outside the door and concentrated, it wasn’t easy to listen through the thick wood but Jim had learned to filter a long time ago and it was quiet in this part of the building.

"He's fine. Still rich. Still pissed at me." Sebastian snapped back, well aware that Magnussen was showing off the information he had. Not that Sebastian's heritage was a secret. He watched as Jim left the room, keeping his eyes warily on Magnussen as the man stepped forwards.

"Now... if you'd like we can keep playing some more games, Moran. You can lay out terms, and chat with the big boys and you could even maybe _think_ about making a deal involving my boy there, but thinking is, _believe_ me, as far as you'll go with it. He doesn't need to be used by men like you. Cigarette?" Sebastian took it when offered, holding it to his lips and letting Magnussen light it. "Or we could skip that and I will tell you what will happen. You can meet one of my men, every week, and tell them what I want you to. I don't expect I'll get all of them back in great shape but that's a risk I'm willing to take. They will bring money."

Sebastian shrugged, cigarette laying easily between his fingers, "Yeah well they fucking better. Me and Holmes have something more of an understanding that the information flows a bit more. He lets me know if he wants the police boys out the way some day. Or... sometimes he gives me a bit of info if I need a raid, where would be safest to raid, that sort of thing."

Magnussen smiled and, as Sebastian lifted the cigarette to his lips again, reached up and pinched it out. "I'm sure he does.”

Jim wasn’t sure exactly what he was meant to be listening for. Fucking Mags. At least he wasn’t pimping him out to this one, Jim was better than that. He only went to high end people, not to every dirty cop who wanted their cock sucked. Mags had proper boys for that. Jim was involved more in planning, he was allowed in the field sometimes but he didn’t really like getting his hands dirty, the raid from the other day was a perfect example. He preferred being cozied up in the office where he could think of new and fun ways to fuck with the Holmes boys and make money. Moran wasn’t hiding anything, he was straight forward. Jim sighed and moved away from the door, waiting for Mags to call him in or send him home.

It was becoming clear that he wasn't going to win, but Sebastian Moran was determined not to go down without a fight, digging his heels in and snarling out a few more insincere threats and demands for thing that Magnussen calmly and irritatingly simply refused. "Fine, fine. You send your little twerps, I’ll frisk them for information, alright, I - wha-" His voice died out as Magnussen's hand was suddenly resting against his cock.

Magnussen stared at Sebastian's left ear and said distantly, "The boy you took yesterday in the car. If you did anything he didn't want, I will have this part of you removed. I think you will miss it. Do not touch him again, he is far beyond what you can expect."

"He's a blind whore..." Sebastian sneered back, then gave a small yelp as Magnussen's fingernail was suddenly driving in somewhere painful.

"Yes, you would think so. If you are good I will send you a pretty young thing to wet your cock in. Not him. Now go.”

 Jim was still standing outside, listening and grinning as Magnussen threatened Moran. He could have dealt with that idiot on his own but he was grateful to have any harassment nipped in the bud. He hadn’t been invited back in, but figured the meeting was over, and he opened the door and felt past the threshold until he could walk towards where he could hear Magnussen breathing. Jim pressed against his side, getting between them, using the excuse of seeing with his hands and trying to find his waist to feel him up a little. “That was hot darling,” Jim didn’t want to push the physical stuff in front of the help, especially when that man had just been corrected, but he felt eager and ready for it and just wanted him to leave. “Did you not hear him? He told you to go.”

Sebastian sneered at both of them, then realised Jim couldn't see and just breathed a "huh" before storming out.

Magnussen gently petted Jim, a small apology for the hurt earlier, "Hmm... what a very angry and repressed man. Did he hurt you at all? I could make him eat his cock if you'd like." He patted Jim's bottom and then sighed, reaching to pat the front of his crotch, "Is that all it takes? Oh Jimmy, Daddy has lots of work to do now... do you want to go find yourself one of the boys to play with?" He stroked the hair away from Jim's face, gently running a thumb over the skin around the edges of his eyes, "I can try and be with you tonight, hmm?”

“No he didn’t hurt me, I was the one that suggested the trade off and he wasn’t too rough about it or anything. You don’t need to waste time torturing him.” Mags felt him up and Jim pressed against him eagerly as the other man left, letting himself be more demonstrative of his desire now that they were alone. Jim stood on his tip toes and brushed his hand down Charles’ chest while he bent up to nip at the skin of his neck playfully. “I know you’re busy, it wouldn’t take long. Tonight maybe, after work? Have you ever thought about letting me fuck you? I could make you feel real good…” Charles had never once let Jim top him, which was fine, Jim didn’t mind it at all but he loved finding ways to push his buttons to see how far he’d be allowed to push before getting knocked back.

"I suspect he would enjoy it far too much." Magnussen continued idly petting Jim as he talked, shaking his head as downstairs the front door slammed. "Someday somebody will force something very hard and long into his bumhole and make him a very happy man indeed." His eyebrows raised at the suggestion and he gave Jim an open handed pat on the nose, "Naughty boy, no you may not. If you're good, you can taste me, but I won't have your cock inside me, yes?" He sighed and then rolled his eyes as Jim continued to rub over him. Sex was a complicated thing, with very little basis in pleasure for Magnussen. It was more of an intellectual exercise, watching how others reacted, how his body reacted, how he could change men’s minds by using it and manipulating it. And now he had a horny squirming little kitten in his arms who'd recently been giving other men blow jobs. "Well if it won't take long..." he conceded, putting his hands onto Jim's bottom and lifting him up onto the table, "Open yourself up, look pretty for me.”

Jim grinned at the small victory, ignoring what Magnussen said about Moran, he didn’t want to talk about him anymore, not when Charles was giving him his mostly undivided attention. Sometimes persistence paid off. “I want that…” Jim half moaned as he crawled up on the desk after making sure that it was clear enough for him to sit on. He wasn’t upset that Mags had said no, it was what he expected, Jim was hardly going to pressure him. He was happy just to have this sometimes. Jim tugged down his slacks after undoing his belt and slipping his braces off his shoulders, then he laid down on his back and felt around in a drawer for the lube he knew Magnussen sometimes kept. He found it and quickly started to prepare himself, not wanting to lose Charles’ interest half way through, which had actually happened a couple of times when he was too slow. Sometimes Jim suspected Magnussen hadn’t exactly thought through what it would mean to keep Jim, because he wasn’t a tool that could be brought out when needed and hidden away when not. He had too much agency for that. Jim moaned as he fingered himself, his other hand inching towards his cock but he knew better than to touch himself without permission. He was flat on his back with his feet on the desk and legs spread wide. He’d move though, or adjust when Magnussen decided he’d had enough prep.

Magnussen watched him, one hand with the fingers spread on Jim's chest, holding him lightly in place. The other hand picked up a report Jim had moved and read it, frowning a little, and then tossing it over his shoulder when he'd finished, "So many stupid people in the world." He murmured, "And they wonder why we take over their city. Do you know, they prefer Holmes? Why? Because he's English. They prefer to be subjugated by their own people." Sighing again he tugged out his cock, shaking his head as he tugged it a few times and slapped it against Jim's inner thigh to get hard, "Your King is German - your people are a bastard mix of the Scots, the French the Italians and the Scandinavians. In 1948 you landed the Jamaican's on your shores, you took in Jews, gypsies, all of the world has at one point come to this country either to rule it or to serve it." His cock thrust inside, one deep movement, while his hands held apart Jim's legs. "You don't mind, do you? You are too clever to dismiss a man on such grounds. Make noises.”

Sometimes Mags got like this, he started talking about the strangest shit when he was about to fuck, like he had to make it clear that he was above need and desire, so he would _prove_ how smart he was by bringing up some vague high minded idea to wax on about before he stuck his cock in something because he never just _gave in_ to desire. Jim could see through it by now, although when he had been young he’d found it awfully incredible. At seventeen the first time he’d had sex he could barely string two words together after and Mags had been talking about the long term negative risks of smoking tobacco or some shit. “I’m Irish, we fucking hate the Brits…” was all Jim had to say about that. He was hard and prepared enough, maybe not as much as he normally would like, but enough. That was okay, Magnussen didn’t fuck him every day, he didn’t mind if he felt it later. Jim wrapped his legs around Charles’ waist and helped direct him inside, moaning and squirming as he stretched him open. It hurt just a little but it was good, Jim was still riding high on his little victory of getting Mags to take time off work. “Touch me… you’ve been neglecting me lately, I was starting to think I was getting too old for you.” That was delivered sarcastically but there was definitely a barb underneath. It was actually the truth though; he wasn’t trying to piss Magnussen off or call him a pedo or anything. “Fuck you feel good…”

Magnussen gave a smile at that, "Yes, my little crazy Irish boy. You are the opposite of them - tight uptight rich English men." His hips thrust away, enjoying Jim's body, the angular little legs and hips, tight arse, he could tell hadn't been stretched quiet enough which made him happy. No point in Jim getting complacent, in not feeling things. "You are being very bossy." He said fondly, reaching forward to tap the top of Jim's cock. "Do I need to piss on you again to make you feel wanted? Yes, you are old now. but never too old. Not you. You are smarter now, and I like that better.”

Jim gave a short little moan each time Charles pressed into him, his cock pressing against his prostate. “You think I’m bossy...? Well I learned from the best. Ahh!” He arched his back up off the desk and then sat up wrapping one arm around Magnussen’s shoulders for balance as the other hand brushed briefly over his face, trying to read his expression. “You know I don’t like it when you do things like that. I’m only twenty, that’s hardly _old._ And I don’t know about being smarter, but I’ve definitely learned a lot over the years. Like the fact that you are a fucking tease.” Jim groaned out as Magnussen just brushed a hand over his cock but didn’t really touch him.

Magnussen always allowed Jim to move, not just because Jim was the favourite but because he knew Jim needed to use his hands to see things, and relied more on movement to tell what was going on. He wrapped his arms around him to keep the boy in place, "Twenty can be old - it's older than you were." He teased, "What if I like you young and soft and compliant, hmm? Before you became all cheeky." He bit at Jim's earlobe, worrying it between his teeth and then tapped at the head of his cock again, "Hmmm... I don't know. I could stroke that little cock of yours, get it all hard and eager, but don't you prefer big stupid policemen in the back of cars now?" He was still teasing, not angry, but also part of him a little wary. he was making sure this latest acquisition fit in the slot where Magnussen wanted him, a slot far away from someone as high up in his organisation as Jim.

“That’s true — uhhg. If - if you like me like that then you shouldn’t have set such a good example for being a mature stubborn bastard.” Jim liked this new angle, he moved his hand away from Magnussen’s face and instead ran it through his hair, tussling it. Jim’s body was sensitive because he used it in the place of his eyes, it was a major way he experienced the world and Magnussen’s hand at his back, his mouth on his ear, that maddeningly brief touch at his cock was all driving him crazy. “MMMMmmm, no, fuck no. He was all full of himself and condescending and he made me swallow. Want you… want you to stoke me till I come and I promise to try and keep it off your papers this time,” Jim teased back. He liked Charles like this, teasing was as soft as he got and if he’d been any softer Jim would have blown him off. But Magnussen provided for him, protected him when he was young and stupid and he needed it. He’d thought he’d be spending his whole life dependent on his father’s mercy and instead Magnussen had seen his potential and scooped him up and out of that situation. 

"You know what will happen if you mess up these papers..." Charles whispered, low and seductive into his ear, before holding his cock and starting to stroke, concise firm strokes that hadn't leant anything about what Jim preferred but that he knew would get the boy off. "Shh now - enough talking, just cum for me, pretty thing." He could tell he was close himself, the thrusts of his hips growing harder and more erratic as he bounced Jim against himself, pleased that Sebastian hadn't proved too much of a draw, or indeed any sort of pull at all.

With Charles fucking him and stroking his cock it wasn’t long before Jim was coming all over his hand, moaning loudly enough that anyone outside the office would have a perfectly clear Idea of what was going on. Jim sat on he desk and breathed for a minute before he started to dress himself. “Are you jealous of the stupid police man?”

"He could have had a future you know. His father was rich, he had money, he went to the best school - Eton. And now he is a corrupt member of the metropolitan police force who says he is straight because he pushes his cock into rent boys, hmm?" Magnussen watched Jim dress and then helped him off the table, patting his bottom. "I said to choose yourself a boy for tonight. Do it. I want to find you cuddled up in my bed with him. And Jimmy... you will tell me if I need to be jealous. I'm sure of that.”

“So what? I was supposed to die before I reached eighteen, we both know that futures don’t actually mean shit when it comes down to it.” Jim brushed his fingertips over Magnussen’s mouth before bending up on his tip toes to kiss him briefly. “That’s his own fault for being stupid then. I’m thinking of taking Paul. Is it okay to bring him back to your home?”

"It is entirely his own fault. That is why his father disowned him." Magnussen said calmly, smiling as Jim kissed him and licking gently at his fingers. "Whoever is fine. Have fun with him, and make sure you are both ready for me when I get in. I might not be in the mood but - eh. I can always watch, hmm?" Picking up a stack of papers he gave Jim another pat and then paused before saying, "And tell Paul everything you know about your big policeman. He'll be the first one picking up information. He might need a few tips.”

Jim was pleased to hear he’d been right in his estimation of Moran. “Yes sir, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. Should I top or should he?” Jim didn’t mind so much but Paul would. Poor Paul. Jim wouldn’t have picked him to send over to Moran but he was a tough little sod. He didn’t know where Paul was in the building, and while he was very familiar with the place, people tended to leave things out that he tripped over. “I should have brought Sam today.” Jim just said, before pulling out his white and red tipped cane and letting it unfold so that he could swing it across the floors, rapping it sharply against the wall as he passed to keep his orientation.

"I think a dog might have been a mistake. They tend to have a natural affinity for Moran and I'm not convinced we would have got it off him." Magnussen said dryly, opening the door for Jim as he headed out. "Do what you like with him. Just make sure when he goes to Moran he's ready to give him what he needs. Whatever he needs. hmm? I can trust you to do that.”

Jim rolled his eyes, rapping the threshold harder than he needed to, “Sam is fixed. Anyway. I understand. I’ll see you at home then.” Jim would always think of Magnussen’s as home, even though he’d lived in his own flat for over three years now. “Have a good day, sweetie.” Jim said bright and chipper and sarcastic as he limped slightly away to go find Paul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Transactional sex, slurs.


	2. Take Me Home and Play with Me Tonight

Magnussen used people and controlled people in many different ways, but one way he'd always found a depressingly easy standby was to get to a man through his cock. In a city where homosexuality was outlawed a surprising number of the outlaws were indeed on the higher side of the Kinsey scale and so Magnussen had collected the young and the reasonably beautiful to cater for all tastes. They were kept a few doors down from Magnussen's main centre of operations in a building popularly known as the "Blackmail Brothel.” Paul was in the kitchen when Jim entered, dancing to the latest record from The Who and looking up suspiciously as the door opened, smiling when he saw who it was, "Jim! Do you have a key for tonight?" He danced closer, giggling and shaking the bangles on one skinny arm so that Jim could tell he was dancing, "Please say you do, that Russian spy fucker has been hanging around and I just know Mags'll want me to see to him…"

Jim smiled as he heard the bracelets jangle together, “Mags wants you to take me home and play with me tonight. Interested? Then he’s got a new one for you tomorrow. I’ve had him already; CAM wants us to compare notes. Do you mind swinging by my place for Sam before going to Mags’ house?” The house was so big and Charles changed the decorating so often that Jim had some real difficulties moving around confidently and besides that Sam would need to be fed in the evening, Jim couldn’t just leave him unattended overnight.

"Course I'm interested." Paul said with a certain amount of relief, heading to the record player and switching it off. While he wasn't keen on animals he liked Sam, who was very well behaved and fairly placid where Paul was concerned. "Who's the new boy then, and why did CAM want you on him?" There was interest as well as a slight amount of professional jealousy. Jim was for high-class clients; Paul was just used to keep the work-force happy.

“His name is Moran,” Jim started as he turned back down the hall and walked with Paul to the parking lot. “CAM doesn’t want me on him, which is why you’ll be handling him in an official capacity for the first time. You heard I got left at the tradeoff site a couple days ago? This Moran guy, I think he’s a detective inspector, he showed up and I offered to suck him off so he wouldn’t arrest me, he folded like a pancake. He’s already on Holmes’ payroll and now he’s on ours.  You bring him money, he gives you info, offer to bend over and he’ll be nice to you. He’s not a cruel one just overenthusiastic.” Jim took Paul’s arm and he got settled into the passenger seat of the car.

Paul held his arm out automatically, used to helping Jim when necessary but without manhandling him, just as a moveable prop. A policeman made sense and he raised his eyebrows at how presumptuous the man had been in getting a blowjob from Jim, "Wow - well, I can do a bent copper, I've done them before. As long as I don't have to go near that new one they've hired. He's mental. He took out Gav and Terry the other day on a safe bust. He arrested them!" Paul sounded outraged that CAMs employees could be arrested for the mere crime of breaking the law.

“Even after he realized who I was he still expected me to service him. You might have a little trouble with him on that front but you are good, I think he’ll be very happy with you.” Jim grinned and reached out so that he could stroke the back of Paul’s neck while they drove to his flat. “I’m excited for tonight. There’s plenty to drink there, I figure we can have our own little party before CAM gets back, what do you say?”

Paul shivered at the thought of an unknown. He was happy to spread his legs when required, it was easy and didn't require much brain power, but it was a chore rather than a calling. Unless it was fooling around with Jim or some of the other guys. At least he would have some information about this one from Jim, and if Jim had serviced him and wasn't obviously limping then it might not be too bad. "Party sounds good - ahh I should've bought some of my records along.”

Jim grinned and let his hand fall from Paul’s hair to his lap where he started to tease him. It was fun to do while Paul was driving, it made it more dangerous. “We can listen to the radio.” The car was parked and Jim figured that was his cue to get out and go get Sam. He was looking forward to tonight, Jim hadn’t had a chance to blow off steam in a while and even if Charles decided not to fuck him again Jim still had fun performing for him.

 

* * *

 

They ended up getting blitzed, Jim and Paul stripped and laid out in the large bed, passing a joint and the bottle back and forth while the radio blared. Jim liked Paul, he wasn’t the brightest person on Mag’s payroll but he was fun and he was one of the few people that wasn’t shitty to Jim because of his disability or his nationality. Jim was on top of Paul now, just kissing him and spending time getting him riled up. It was frustrating to wait but Jim had already come once that day and didn’t want to risk not being able to perform when Charles got here. Jim was happy and relaxed, beaming and mischievous. Sam was curled up on a large cushion Jim dragged out from under the bed, watching his human carefully.

Paul took a deep drag on the joint, sighing the smoke out happily, blissed out as Jim kissed over his body, his skinny limbs spread out over the bed. "Go on then..." he said eventually, shifting a little to prop himself up on his elbows, grinning at Jim and kissing the top of his head then. "What's he like, this policeman of yours. Am I looking at tips? Or a day of not sitting down?”

Jim snorted, a little irritated to be coming back to the arsehole policeman when he was having such a good time. “He slipped me a tenner, gave me a cigarette and drove me home. That was fine but he held my head down while I had his cock in my mouth and then he made me swallow. Didn’t give me any warning before he came. Dunno, he seemed real clingy to me and wanted to see me again.” Jim grinned and shouted over the music, missing Magnussen’s entrance over the loud dance music. “And he’s fucking hung!”

Paul laughed, "Oh fuck that... well I don't mind a nice fat cock if it comes with a nice fat tip -" His voice dried up as he saw Magnussen enter and he clung to Jim a bit, flushing awkwardly. He was terrified of Magnussen, and suddenly very glad he had Jim on top between them. "Um..."

Magnussen reached out and gently stroked the back of Jim's head, just to reassure the boy he was there. "Look at you," he murmured fondly, "All debauched. Continue. But I'm switching this silly music off.”

Jim heard Paul’s voice die out and felt his little hands cling to him tightly. The reason why made itself known to Jim, he was always grateful for Magnussen’s courtesy in that area. Everyone else forgot to tell Jim if someone new came in the room or let him know when someone used non-verbal communication like a shrug. “Put that joint out, will you? I don’t want to burn myself on it.” Jim reached around to take Magnussen’s hand, following his arm up to his shoulder and then his face. Jim kissed him filthily and then giggled under the effects of the alcohol and the joints Paul and him had shared. “We started the party without you.” Sam stood and stretched before coming over to Magnussen and nosing his hand, looking for attention. The German Shepard could be like his owner in that way. “Do you want a massage?” Jim asked invitingly, mostly just trying to get Mags out of his clothes and into bed. He didn’t understand why Paul was so frightened of him, Magnussen was good to Jim.

Magnussen smiled at the kiss, stroking and scratching the top of Sam's head and shaking his head, following it quickly with words, "No, no. Not quite yet. I will watch you, you look very pretty together. I see you've told him about his latest job?" Heading over to the sofa he sat down on it, pulling out a sheaf of paperwork. "Moran is not as stupid as he looks." He warned, "But he is easy enough to control. Tug his cock and give him money, he'll eat out your hand." He gave Paul a stern look, watching the boy tremble, and obediently stub the joint out on the bedstead. "Go on... play. Play with him. Make his little heart soar. He'll need it for tomorrow.”

Sam went back to his bed and settled down, still watching his human even as he dozed. Jim shook his head at Magnussen reprovingly, “Stop… you’re scaring him. He really wasn’t bad Paul, don’t be so nervous.” Jim reached out to touch Paul’s face, poking specifically at the little wrinkle he felt in between the boy’s eyebrows. “He was almost nice to me. You aren’t going to have any trouble with him and if you do then he’ll have me to answer to, yeah?” Jim bent down to kiss him, reaching between them to start stroking the boy’s cock and pinning his wrists above his head. “What do you want darling?” He was happily buzzed, the world felt soft and warm and Jim wanted Paul.

"Mmmm yeah..." Paul said, unconvinced what with the expression on Magnussen's face. Still he was pretty tanked between the weed and the alcohol and his hips gave a jerk as Jim's hand reached down between his legs, "A-ahhh y-your mouth..." he gasped, eyes flickering nervously to Magnussen.

He sighed and said "Yes." pointedly, followed by, "Jim - fuck him after though, I want to take you while you're inside him.”

Jim gave a breathy little moan at the idea and happily ran his hands down the skin of Paul’s chest and stomach, trying to tickle him and get him to loosen up. It was no fun sucking someone off when they were scared. Instead of going straight for his cock Jim started mouthing at the inside of his thigh, leaving little nips along the path his tongue left. He spent some time licking over Paul’s entrance but he did not penetrate him with his tongue, only teased him. Then Jim lifted his cock up and out of the way, pushing Paul’s legs spread wide so that Jim could take his balls in his mouth, sucking on them and playing with them with his tongue, moaning to send the vibrations through Paul’s body. He wanted the other boy to relax and to have fun.

Paul moaned, the presence of Magnussen always left him feeling tense, but Jim was usually a good buffer. For some reason, Magnussen liked Jim, and tended to save the worst of his behaviour towards the whores for when Jim wasn't present. A few little nips on the sensitive skin of his inner thigh and he was wriggling and squealing happily, gasping out Jim's name as he felt the lips and tongue against his balls, "A-ahhh... o-ohhh yesss ... Jim ... prosím ... " he gasped, his Czech accent coming out as he writhed around under Jim's hands. Magnussen watched, slowly putting the papers down, enjoying the power Jim could maintain over the other.

Jim grinned as Paul squirmed and writhed underneath him. He let Paul’s wrists go and instead fumbled around for the lube they left out on top of the end table. He wanted to stretch Paul while he sucked him off, two birds, one stone and all of that. When his fingers were slicked up Jim pressed two inside of Paul as he slowly sank his mouth down and around his length, bobbing his head and he worked the fingers in and out of Paul’s hole. He loved what he could do to Paul, the accent and endearments in his native tongue.

Paul gave a pleased little cry as the fingers sank inside him - he might not have got a whole lot out of being a whore but his arse was eager enough when he was happy and aroused and especially when he was high. "A-ahhh více, prosím... více" he gabbled, arching his back prettily and spreading his legs further.

Magnussen came up behind Jim, giving a little click to let Jim know he was there before kissing the boy's neck, "Look at him. He is a pretty whore, isn't he? He must be so grateful I let him into this country and gave him a job." He started to undo his shirt, still kissing Jim as he went, and watching his fingers slide in and out of the young man below. "Mmmm see how desperate he is? Add another.”

Jim pulled his mouth away from Paul’s cock as he added a third finger like he was told. He couldn’t help an inappropriate little laugh, “Very funny.” Jim reached out though with his free hand and brushed his fingertips over Paul’s features. “He is pretty though…” Jim worked two fingers into Paul’s mouth, grinning down at him as Magnussen kissed the exposed skin at his neck and spine. “Suck them. You are so beautiful and so good for me…” Jim praised. When he topped he unconsciously emulated Magnussen in a lot of ways, especially in the things he said, delivered with a casual dominance. It wasn’t something he’d noticed about himself, how much of who he was had been made by Magnussen in his own image.

Magnussen laughed as well, shaking his head at the sight of Paul arched back, mouth filled and sucking greedily, arse stuffed and about to be filled even further, "They are so easy to control." He purred, his shirt pooling on the floor as his hands worked over Jim's naked torso, "And you control them so well. He would do a lot for you, you know that, hmm? Although maybe, not as much as you would do for me..." Paul gave a whimper and a desperate moan around the fingers in his mouth, his hips humping back, his eyes lidded half-shut.

“I have not done as much for him as you have done for me.” Jim excused. It was true that he would do a lot for Magnussen, some things more willingly than others, but he’d do them all the same. Jim pulled his fingers away from Paul and lubed up his cock, making sure everything was slick because he knew how Paul liked it. “How do you want us? Is this position good?” Not being able to see could make it difficult to accurately predict any hang ups as far as bodies and their placements when more than two people were involved. Besides, Charles liked it when Jim left things up to him.

"Of course." Magnussen smiled, loving how loyal Jim was, how much Jim felt he owed him. "This is fine, lift his hips, take him." Reaching down he dragged a nail down the side of Paul's hip, making him whimper, "You are a lucky boy tonight, you might like to hope that your mark tomorrow uses lubrication as generously." His hands went back to Jim, fondling down and patting his bottom as he lined up with Paul, "Mmmm... good boy, such a good boy…"

“It’s been a few hours…” Jim breathed out, “Are you going to prep me?” It wouldn’t be the end of the world if Magnussen didn’t, as long as he didn’t take him dry it probably wouldn’t even be very painful and Jim wasn’t opposed to rough sex. Jim found a pillow and shoved it under Paul’s hips to help lift him off the mattress some and make him more comfortable. He was a little relieved that this was good enough for Charles and he did as he was told, muttering a “ready?” to Paul before lining himself up and pushing inside, gasping at how warm and slick he felt. Jim stuck his own arse out invitingly as he started moving inside Paul.

"Should I? Or have you wasted all the lube on a lazy whore..." Magnussen snarked but he still picked up the little bottle, shaking his head and pressing some into his hand, letting his trousers fall as well. He gave a pleased little groan as he saw Jim entering Paul, pressing and squeezing his arse with his free hand as he stroked himself, "Mmmm I'll take it out of his wages hmm? Don't look like that Jimmy, this is me being nice. Nicer than taking it out of his hide. Lift your hips, go on, fuck him faster, he wants it..." the last few word were almost said with a tone of incredulity, "He really does." Below him Paul gasped and scrabbled, body flushed, and lips panting out broken Czech as Jim filled him up.

Jim shook his head, moaning and laughing. “I felt the tube, there’s plenty. Don’t think you can get one over on me just because I can’t see it.” He loved the noises Magnussen made watching them and touching Jim’s arse. “That police man must have really bothered you, I don’t think you’ve fucked me twice in a day since you bought me the flat…” Jim moaned and spend up his tempo like Charles asked him, he heard the disbelief in Magnussen’s tone and shook his head. “Course he wants it, cause I’m good to him. Aren’t I Paul?” Jim reached between them and started stroking Paul’s cock as he bent over him and then pinned a wrist to the mattress in each hand. Paul was practically bent in half but Jim trusted him to let him know if it was too uncomfortable.

"A-ahhh, o-oh yes, miluji tě," Paul gasped, safe in the knowledge that Jim didn't know Czech. He'd been so far gone he'd forgotten firstly that Magnussen was there and secondly that Magnussen did know some of the language, and was reminded as a large flat hand left a firm print on the outside of his thigh.

 "Stop talking rubbish." Magnussen snapped, reaching down and sliding a quick finger into Jim's arse before pressing himself forward, hard and suddenly, "I should fuck you twice a day more often, it is so nice and warm." Magnussen murmured into Jim's ear, "Now move... move between both of us.”

Jim never really asked Paul what he said when they were fucking, he figured if he wanted him to know then he’d tell him in English. Jim loved languages and offered a couple of times to learn Paul’s native tongue but he never seemed interested so Jim let it drop. He startled badly when Magnussen’s hand came down and the sound of his slap went off by Jim’s ear. He didn’t like it when Magnussen hit Paul, Jim didn’t see him do it often. Sometimes Charles hit him like that but it was okay because Jim was a tough little sod and he liked it rough anyway, Paul didn’t like being hit especially during sex. Magnussen sounded genuinely angry for a moment and Jim wondered briefly what Paul had said to upset him but then Charles was pushing inside of him and Jim groaned as he stuck out his arse and tried to relax so that Charles could fit comfortably inside him. “Mmmm… I would not fucking complain. God. Ah…” Jim needed to take a few moments to steady himself, the sensation of being inside Paul and having Charles inside him was so much… he didn’t think he’d ever done it like this before and if Jim hadn’t already come today he might have been worried about his orgasm coming too soon. He started to move, slowly at first and then faster.

Magnussen kissed under his ear gently while his hand slid across Jim's backside and then dug in, gripping him tight, controlling his movements, taking his cock sliding in and out of Paul's arse while he started to thrust inside Jim, "You like this don't you." He murmured, "Taking him, while I take you. I might do it again, if you teach him not to talk so much. He says what I want him to, nothing more, do you think I want to find out he's been spilling out more than I want to Sebastian Moran?" His hips started to pump harder and he gave a groan, "You're still tight... so good…"

Jim was a shaking mess as Magnussen started controlling all of his movements, just letting him take him completely. “Paul — Mmm. He trusts me, he wouldn’t talk to a fucking detective. This is for fun, this isn’t a job.” Paul didn’t need to be professional right now because they were just having a bit of a romp. It wasn’t work. Jim was still hunched forward over Paul and he leaned down to start mouthing at his neck. “How close are you Paul? Is this what you want? Have you been thinking about it all day?” Because he couldn’t see he got nervous if Paul went quiet on him for too long.

Paul whimpered and moaned back at him, nodding his head against Jim's face and whispering, "Y-yes, o-oh Jim, please... m-make me cum, n-ot him... just you..." the whisper was very quiet but Magnussen still heard it, making sure to keep his face still and calm. He much preferred Paul to be afraid of him and yet to still trust Jim, so he was happy to allow them this. His other hand went down to steady Jim's hip, ignoring the two boys as he concentrated on himself, thrusting into the tight warm space, taking what he needed, what Jim had always been ready to give him. "Go on Jimmy, sort your little slut out." He murmured.

Jim frowned but didn’t contradict Magnussen or try and argue, he just focused on Paul — sucking on his neck and reaching between them to stroke his cock in his hand. Jim could feel himself getting closer, that warm pressure in his gut building. He whimpered a little as Charles thrust into him so hard that it pushed him inside Paul, he felt like a marionette with Charles pulling the strings and with the alcohol warming him up it felt so good to just let go and allow Charles that control. He kept up a fast and steady rhythm on Paul’s cock, determined to give him a mind blowing orgasm to make up for the shit Charles said to him. “Come for me Paul… come on.” Jim breathed against his neck, panting and moaning in his ear as he fucked Paul and fucked himself on Charle’s cock.

It didn't take much to get Paul cumming, head tilted back and unintelligable Czech spilling out of him as his body shuddered, his arse clamping down on Jim hard, as much through practice and habit as any unintentional muscle spasms. Magnussen increased the pace, gripping Jim hard, his nails digging in along the curve of his arse as he thrust hard, grunting gently. "Come on Jimmy, can you cum again for me? Spill right inside him then lick it out…"

He’d been holding on because it was important that he didn’t come too soon because he was between them but Charles’s voice in his ear, Paul gripping down on his cock and Magnussen’s hands on his arse were very compelling. He moaned and came inside Paul when Charles called him Jimmy the order was enough to send him over the edge. He floated for a moment on his orgasm, face pressed into Paul’s stomach and his arse in the air. When he felt more put together he moved to obey, spreading Paul’s cheeks wide and licking inside of him. He was spent but normally just this might have been enough to get him hard again, being fucked while he used his tongue on Paul, arse in the air and face pressed against the mattress.

Magnussen held his head in place, while Paul whimpered and writhed, thrusting harder and faster inside him and finally cumming with a gasp of relief, his eyes closing momentarily as he spilt inside Jim. He watched them both as he withdrew and then stroked the little crescent-moon nail marks marking Jim's backside before giving them a slap, "Beautiful, both of you. Don't let me disturb your party." Pulling out a piece of paper he laid it on the table. "That is for Moran. I want to hear exactly what happened and exactly what he said, understood? As soon as you get back." Fondling Jim again he tilted his head to give the boy a kiss and murmur, "Sleep here tonight." Before heading out the door to clean up.

Jim kissed Magnussen lazily, surprised that he’d kiss him when he had the taste of Paul’s cock in his mouth but Charles wasn’t known for being squeamish. He nodded and agreed to stay, it was just a pain getting driven places and it was easier to just go to work with Magnussen in the morning. Jim gave Paul a kiss and then gave his arse a playful smack. “That was great. I hope you enjoyed yourself. You should probably go before he gets back though. Come find me tomorrow and let me know how it goes with Moran, yeah?” Jim felt around and grabbed a shirt, pulling it on. He thought it must be CAM’s because it was a button up and huge on him. “I’ll walk you out, I have to let Sam out.” Jim whistled and waited for Paul to get his things together then took his arm and walked with him outside to say goodbye. He really hoped that tomorrow would be okay for the other boy.

Paul gave a little giggle as Magnussen left, squealing at the slap and sticking his tongue out, "Huh... what am I meant to do with both of you beating me up. What's Moran going to say, huh? Coming there with great big handprints all over me." He smiled and stood up, adjusting his clothes and wiping himself down on his underwear before leaving it in the wash basket at the side of the room. "At least I've got some heads up for what I'm doing..." he stroked Sam gently as the dog bounded over and then held out his arm for Jim again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Drug use, unhealthy sexual dynamics.


	3. Let Me Lick Your Face

For the next few weeks, Sebastian was pretty sure his life had hit some sort of high - as perfect as it would ever be without the money his father was keeping from him. Every week a pretty, sulky little European boy would come and collect the necessary information about Holmes, while feeding Sebastian information that he was almost certain was incorrect and mostly ignored. Every now and again Holmes would call for him, and Sebastian would entertain himself by leering at the stuffy bastard’s brother and buying coke from him on the side. Everything was going perfectly harmoniously until the night of the Raid that Went Wrong - a simple excursion into a bar that Holmes had been willing to let him have for a superior's report that turned into an all out brawl with two policemen seriously injured. Sebastian was left in disgrace, in trouble and seriously fuming - angry enough not to even explain to Paul when he left what he hoped was a clear message on the boy's hide just to demonstrate to Magnussen just how angry he was. Sure enough, two days later he was outside the door to Magnussen's office, sullen and irritated, his temper not improved as Magnussen left it and swept passed him with a "So terribly sorry, please wait inside, I won't be long."

Inside was only the little blind lad he'd first met and Sebastian flung himself into a chair, feeling a little better when the dog who was inside came over and licked his fingers. Sighing, he stroked and patted the dog's head, feeling a wave of nostalgia for all the hunting dogs at home, "Stupid bastard fucker, he's making me wait, isn't he?”

Jim was equally fuming, he hadn’t seen the damage to Paul’s body of course but he’d felt the boy flinch under his hands and Magnussen had taken great joy in describing the bruises to him. Charles warned Jim that Sebastian was going to be in the room with him and it was easy enough to recognize his stomping steps and voice. Jim reached out and realized that Sam had left his side. He didn’t have his harness on so the faux pas was acceptable. “Sam. Come here. Sit.” The dog came back to him and laid down next to Magnussen’s desk, resting his head on his paws and watching Sebastian warily. He was angry and near his human and that made him more alert than normal. “You are mouthy for someone who is in trouble. Of course he’s making you wait, should his important business wait for him so that he can punish you? Don’t get so full of yourself. You seriously fucked up.” Jim started picking at his nails, crossing his legs on the edge of the desk.

"In trouble - what the fuck did I do?" Sebastian snapped. "Your boss is the one who turned what was meant to be a nice safe fucking raid into a complete bastard mess. My job is on the fucking line because of him." He sighed as Sam's hackles raised moodily sinking back down into the chair. "That was nothing at all to do with him. Holmes decided to sacrifice a small back end bit of his own business to keep my bosses happy. _Nothing_ to do with him at all, so why the hell would I need 'punishing' for it?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jim sneered. “Use that head of yours. Mycroft _Holmes_ just _gives_ you a raid because why? He wants to see you do well? Does he put your grade school papers on the fridge too?” Sam started growling low as Sebastian raised his voice and stood up from his chair but the dog settled when Sebastian quieted down. “And you’re in fucking trouble because you didn’t inform us when you checked in, after beating our man black and blue. Your privileges in that department have officially been revoked until further notice.”

"What man, what the fuck are you on about - I didn't get to smack anyone. I barely escaped with my life." Sebastian hissed back, but the presence of Sam was a calming influence, he wasn't about to get ragingly angry at Jim with the dog in the room. It never occurred to him that Jim might be talking about Paul, as far as Seb was concerned Paul was just an arse for hire, not someone to be referred to as 'our man'. "Of course Holmes gives me raids, that's how the whole damn system works, you silly little fucker.”

"It's never occurred to you that Holmes is playing you? Don't be naive. And you beat the hell out of our boy, you won't get another one until every mark on his body heals." Jim was shouting by now and Sam had his hackles up, and was standing now. "Don't give me that shit, acting all indignant, like you've been wrong. I know you were born with a silver spoon shoved up your ass, but you need to be aware of your place here.

"What boy, what, the fucking prozzer?" Sebastian gave a laugh, "Fuck me does Magnussen really care that much about every little fucking bum-boy that works for him? He's calling me in here to tell me off for leaving a few little bruises on his paid pouffe? I might not be Lord Fucking Moran anymore but I thought I was above the goddamned brothel workers. And no, I know Holmes, he knows the system, we both know how to play it. He might rock the boat but he's not about to drill a hole in the fucking thing.”

"No Magnussen doesn't care but I do and Magnussen cares about what I want. You were given a privilege, you abused it, and now it's been taken away from you. Like a child. Magnuson is not pleased with your performance. We are paying for a detective in good graces not someone who is halfway out the door.”

“I'm only half way out the door because he fucking pushed me out..." Sebastian snarled, "And you can tell that little fucking Serbian twink he's lucky I didn't finish the evening by fucking him, could've torn him apart but I didn't because it wasn’t about him yeah? It was a message for CAM." The door swung open again and Sebastian pushed himself to his feet, "Is that what this is?" He asked as Magnussen entered, "You want to what, tick me off for playing rough with your messenger?"

Magnussen looked at him, not even bothering to hide his distain. "What? Who? This is about you, Moran, and your decisions to break into places without asking me first, ah?" He raised a hand as Sebastian started to talk, "Don't tell me it was Holmes's bar and Holmes's choice. You ask me, understand? Before you pull policemen onto any single brick in this city, it goes through me.”

“Next time pick up a fucking phone, you ingrate, or I’ll just find someone bigger and stronger than you to take down messages for me, you hear?” Jim exhaled sharply through his nose and lit himself a cigarette while he let Charles deal with the rest. Jim had said his piece; he’d meant what he said. No more twinks for Moran until Paul was healed. He reached down to pet at Sam’s head, he could tell the animal was still agitated, this was why Jim didn’t like to bring him in to the office.

"You beat up two of my policeman and your little bumboy here wants me to _phone_ you." Sebastian snarled at Moran, happy to ignore Jim as he didn't want to upset the dog.

Magnussen looked at Sebastian down his nose and then finally came over and patted his cheek, "So angry. So stupid. You need to learn, Moran, you need to learn how to behave. Right now your job is dangling, if you're not careful you'll lose it. You will do what I want, how I want, and when I want. And right now I want you to sit down in that chair and let me lick your face." There was a moment of stunned silence and Sebastian's jaw dropped. "Then." Magnussen continued, "You will listen to what I tell you to do, go back to your station and do it. Or you can storm out of here and lose your job and believe me, Sebastian Moran, you have not made many friends as a Detective inspector. You'll have even fewer when you're not a Detective Inspector."

Sebastian glared at him, flushed and then finally sat down, turning his head and glaring at the floor as Magnussen's tongue dragged over day-old stubble. "Fine. But I want the whore back. Tonight. I want him at my place, and naked, don't care what state he's in.”

Jim smirked a little bitterly as Magnussen pulled out his old test. He didn’t _like_ it exactly but he did think that Sebastian needed to be put in his place. Especially after he hurt Paul for such a stupid reason. He could hear Magnussen’s tongue run over the stubble and he smirked in Sebastian’s direction. His smirk dropped when he heard Sebastian try and make stupid demands. “No. What I said stands. You do not get to undermine my authority by crying to daddy about your poor cock that’s not going to suck itself. I’ll send Daren or no one at all, and I don’t think you’ll like him very much. Or maybe you will.”

Magnussen glanced over, raising an eyebrow as Jim made the suggestion. Ordinarily he wouldn't care, and would be happy to send Paul. He cared very little about the boy, his job was to do as he was told, and get hurt if that was what happened. But he wasn't about to undermine Jim in front of a misbehaving mook.

"Who the fuck is Daren. Is he cute?" Seb demanded, and gave a slightly freaked out shudder as Magnussen patted his cock.

"Yes. Send Daren. Somebody needs to keep poor _Mister_ Moran warm at night. Now. This is what you are going to do.”

 

* * *

 

Jim left shortly after, hooking Sam into his harness and walking with him down to the first floor where their whores and muscle hung around when they were on call but didn’t have a specific job to do. Sam was smart but not trained to find people by scent, except maybe Jim because they spent so much time together. So Jim had to find Paul the old fashioned way. He ducked into a few rooms, calling for him, telling people if they saw Darren Jim wanted to talk to him. He did find Paul, curled up on a mattress in a corner, obviously high, probably to deal with the pain his body was in. “Hey…” Jim breathed, smiling down where he could hear Paul sniffling. “I fixed it, yeah? You aren’t going back to him, certainly not until you’ve healed. I brought Sam to come see you. How are you feeling?”

Paul stretched out as he heard Jim's voice, flopping onto his stomach and holding the arm with the joint in up into the air languidly, "S'okay. I've stopped bleeding." He looked up in surprise as Jim spoke, eyes red-rimmed in a bruised face, "What - really? Oh god... thank you. I thought sure as fuck I'd be back." Putting the joint back into his mouth he ruffled Sam's hair, "Unh... fucking bastard. I didn't even do anything, I swear, I didn't even lip off to him or anything and he -" his voice died out as he saw Darren looming behind Jim with a "you wanted to see me?" and started trembling a little, jumping headfirst into the wrong conclusion, "Please, please Jim, I'm sorry, really, I-I didn't do anything. I'll go back to Moran if you want…"

“What? No. Paul, calm down, when have I ever fucked you over like that, huh? Haven’t I always looked out for you?” Jim huffed and shook his head. “I know you didn’t do anything wrong. He was a dick, that’s why Darren is here.” Jim turned his head in Darren’s direction, he could feel how tense Sam was having a man that large and imposing near his human, but Jim soothed him by petting his head. “Darren I’m giving you Moran’s address, he’s the mark that Paul’s been taking. Detective Inspector. He beat the piss out of Paul because he was angry at Magnussen, you might not care about that but I’m letting you have a pass at him. Nothing too bad and stay away from damaging his face. Just make it difficult for him to walk tomorrow. If you’re wondering why I’m sending you it’s because he got lippy and tried to twist my arm into giving him a whore, I’m giving him you instead. He’s expecting a twink, have fun.”

"I know, I know, oh my god, I just thought..." Paul gabbled and sank his face back into the mattress again, sucking hard on the joint.

Daren gave a laugh reaching over to pat Paul gently on the head, "You get a pass this time kid. I'll go play with your Moran. Let's see your face?" Putting two fingers under Paul's chin he pushed his face up, shaking his head and giving a whistle, "Man he did a number on you. Alright then. Payback time. He patted Jim's cheek quickly before Sam could complain too much. "Sure I can't split his lip? Never split a copper's lip before and just look what he did to Paulie?”

“He has a precarious position at work I don’t him to get fired over fighting. Hurt him anywhere else, don’t touch his face.” Jim had no beef over this, he looked out for the people that looked after him and fucked over the people that hurt those people. It was just how his world worked for him. “Get better Paul. I’ll come visit in a bit.” Jim needed to meet with Magnussen now that Sebastian had presumably left for the day. Sam led him toward the door but when they got into the hallway Sam stopped and started growling. Jim frowned, taking a moment to work out what was wrong. “Hello father. Back from Russia, are you?”

James Brooke had been hoping his son wasn't in the brothel house but it was hardly a huge surprise to see him there. He gave a little sigh, and managed a stilted smile, "Jimmy. You look... well." The word was forced and the unspoken 'still blind' hung in the air, "Yes, I'm back. It was cold and I killed people. Very standard. Where's Magnussen?”

Jim could hear the smile in his father’s voice and it irritated him. “He’s in his office. I was just headed there myself. He was meeting with a narc but they should be finished now. I’ll walk with you. Forward.” He commanded to Sam. When the dog didn’t move and continued to growl quietly Jim shook his harness to get his attention. “Sam. Forward.” The dog quieted down and moved forward reluctantly. He was trained to ignore commands if they put his human in danger and Brooke was certainly dangerous. Jim reflected that Sam always reacted like that, in the first weeks when Magnussen took him away from his father and moved him into the flat and bought him Sam his father had come over and beaten him stupid, he’d needed to go to the hospital. Sam had seen everything, he’d still been a young dog at the time and he’d never forgotten Brooke. The dog kept an eye on him, leading Jim to the opposite side of the hallway out of harm’s reach.

Brooke gave the dog a suspicious look and flipped it off, safe in the knowledge Jim wouldn't see although still a bit perturbed when it started growling. He hesitated as the door opened and Sebastian stormed out looking angry and gave a dry chuckle at the man's back. "Moran's son? I'm impressed he's still alive." He gave Jim a look out of the corner of his eye and managed an almost concerned, "How's Charles treating you?" Rather ruining the effect by adding, "Am I still going to be hearing all the jokes about my son being the bosses whore?”

“Oh you don’t like those jokes? You know the ones I don’t like? The ones where they say they could fuck me and I wouldn’t know the difference because some asshole beat me so badly I can’t see anymore. Forgive me if I don’t give a fuck about your delicate sensibilities.” Jim sighed, and calmed down a little, reacting to the genuine concern he could hear in his father’s voice. “He doesn’t hit me and I’m provided for. That’s all there really is to it. I’ve been given more responsibility since you’ve been away. I’ve been coordinating the narcotics branch. It’s going well.” He pushed past and made it to the desk, finding Magnussen and giving him a quick kiss on the mouth just to make his father uncomfortable.

Brooke twitched a little as Jim spoke, then gave a growl as Magnussen kissed Jim right in front of him. Magnussen, clearly aware of this, lengthened the kiss and gave Jim a little fondle. "Everything sorted? Good. I don't want my puppets trying to play their own games. One more slip and he loses his job." He squeezed Jim's bottom again and then patted it, "Go now. I need an important report, from this idiot and I don't need you knowing anything that makes you a target.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Descriptions of abuse.


	4. I’m Jim. Jim Moriarty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note on this one, I've worked with service animals before and prospective service animals as a dog trainer-- I know that service animals are thoroughly vetted for any type of aggression. I've also seen service dogs "ruined" with lazy ownership and allowing or encouraging bad behaviors. Specifically I trained a re-homed PTSD German Shepherd dog who had aggressive tendencies due to his previous owner encouraging his service dog to bark at strangers. Apparently it made him feel safer, and that was the situation when the dog came to the new owners. Even service dogs can have bad habits, I don't think it's unreasonable for a dog with a good disposition to become protective and even attack someone when their owner is threatened. Especially with a breed like Sam's who can become very protective when they see their owner in an abusive situation. Anyway, just wanted to explain that a little before anyone commented saying it's impossible behavior from a service dog. While I was able to confirm that guide dogs have been around long before the 1960s, I do not even know how strict they were about temperament tests, and like my anecdotal evidence, a dog doesn't always retain it's training after it's been certified. -Magpie

Jim was sitting in his flat the next day, avoiding work since his father was back. He didn’t have much to do that day anyway and Charles suggested that he take the day off and then meet him for dinner later. He was dozing on the couch with a full ashtray and the radio playing in the background when he heard a knock at the door. He sat up, scratching at his head and stretching before standing and walking to the door unaided. This was his home, it had been for a few years now. It was small so that it was easy to get around in and he memorized where everything was, it was the only place he didn’t need the help of his cane or a person or his dog. Jim opened the door, having no idea who was outside. “Can I help you?” He asked, a little peevishly for having been woken up.

As soon as the door was open Sebastian barged his way through, grabbing Jim and crashing him up against the wall, "you little _shit."_ He yelled in his face, pleased for once that Jim couldn't see him - couldn't tell he was limping and couldn't see the redness around his eyes that hopefully wasn't betrayed in his voice. "Where the fuck do you get off pretending someone like you can order up people to fuck up my day. You're just another whore of CAMs and I'm going to fucking rip you apart.”

Jim was pinned against the wall, terrified for a brief moment until Moran spoke and he recognized his voice. “I’m not his whore I’m his — I’m not a whore! I run the fucking narcotics division now and I manage the sex workers. It was abso-fucking-lutely my call to make, you don’t just get to fuck up one of my workers and walk away.” It was hard to breathe but Jim didn’t struggle, he’d learned after he’d been blinded that there was very little he could do to defend himself if someone started hurting him and it was better to just sit through it.

"You manage the sex workers do you - oh yeah, so it's your business to send your fucking nonce cases round to my fucking flat is it?" Sebastian yelled in his face, and then heard the growling from behind him. He'd been around dogs since he'd been a baby and he knew what that particular sound meant. None to gently he dropped Jim in a heap and stormed off, slamming his fist into a side cupboard and then kicking it over. "That boy was my direct line to Magnussen." He growled, "I was told I could do what I wanted with him. At no fucking point did your boss _ever_ state that if I slapped him around a bit I'd be bent over by a fucking madman. Give me one good reason not to take away another of your fucking senses.”

“Go ahead,” Jim dared defiantly from his position on the floor. “I know I’ll survive but you fucking wont. Mags would take everything from you, cut off your arms and legs and take your eyes and rip out your tongue. So maybe you should fucking think before you come in and start threatening Mag’s favorite _whore.”_ He stood up shakily, still feeling afraid because he couldn’t see Sebastian and didn’t know what he was going to do. “You shouldn’t have to be told you need to treat people who are doing you a favor with respect. You agreed for Darren to come over, you should have asked who he was first. But you didn’t care because you figured it didn’t matter as long as you had a fresh bum to fuck.”

"That Slovakian twink was a fucking _whore."_ Sebastian yelled back at him, finding another piece of furniture to destroy. "It was his fucking _job_ \- he didn't have to turn up at my house, you bloody well sent him." He knew his voice was trembling now, knew that if he didn't keep kicking the small table he was currently demolishing he'd collapse in the middle. "If you didn't know your boss was going to fuck up my job, that I'd get angry, that I'd _show_ him I was angry that's your damn lookout." Kicking hard at the carpet next to Jim's head he bent down to grab the front of his shirt again, hissing a few centimeters away from his face, "And you do _not_ get to order someone to come around and fuck me, alright? That is _never_ happening again.”

“He is a whore and you are the fuck who uses him, you are both on the same fucking level and don’t act like fucking him makes you better than him. You got used like a whore today, now maybe fucking remember that next time you beat a boy until he cries when he never did nothing but make you happy.” Jim gasped and grabbed at Sebastian’s wrist as he lifted him up and held him up by his shirt, dangling off the ground as the material bit into his skin. “Don’t fuck up my workers and I won’t have to. Put me down!” Jim shouted and struggled, trying to get Sebastian to drop him again. Sam had been watching warily by Jim’s side, he’d seen the big human destroy the furniture and make noise. When he picked up Jim, Sam bared his teeth and when the human didn’t put Jim down Sam lunged, jumping up on his hind legs and laying his teeth into the man’s forearm.

"Don't you ever fucking say I got used like a whore..." Sebastian snarled back at him, enraged and furious, lifting a hand to strike Jim and yelping as Sam's teeth landed in it, "Fucking OW - down, get down..." He shook his forearm, stepping away from Jim while his other hand flailed frantically and painfully in mid-air. He wanted to hurt Jim, had rather enjoyed hurting Paul and would happily have shot Daren in the nuts but a dog was a different matter. He jumped awkwardly away from Jim, staggering backwards and giving an unhappy yowl as he fell backwards onto his arse, cradling his arm. "Fucking Christ I hope you die in a fire. I hope Holmes cuts your nuts off and sells you to those fucking Arabs. You and your goddam whores.”

“You got used like a whore, that’s what happened. Maybe next time think about how this is how Paul felt every fucking day, that’s fine, he gets paid, that’s our job and that’s how it is. But you don’t fucking beat him when he did nothing to you.” Sam bit Sebastian, at least Jim guessed that’s what happened and Jim dropped to the floor again. “Sam! Shit, Sam come here. Sit.” He felt the dog’s fur under his hands and the big dog sat in Jim’s lap. He couldn’t see but the animal had blood on its teeth. Jim wrapped his arms around the dog from behind and pressed his face against his fur. “Don’t fucking touch him. I mean it. He wasn’t trying to do anything wrong.” Sebastian was still a police officer he could legally take the dog and have him euthanized for biting and attacking an officer. “I won’t let you take him.” Jim swore heatedly. He wasn’t really a dog person but he was not going to give up the drooling little shit to Moran so that he could put a bullet between its eyes, Sam deserved better.

"What the fuck, why the hell would I hurt your dog! Ow fucking shit." His arse was hurting like hell and Sebastian whimpered, pushing up into a crouch and glaring across at both of them. "Fucking grew up around dogs, I know they bite, and that was a hell of a bite." His voice was a little admiring. "My dad had a whole pack of them, hunting." He continued wistfully, "Biggest was a fucking monster - Monty he was called - fuck he used to put me in my place. Fucking loved that dog." He scowled, getting back into the moment. "I might have slapped your bloody Polack around, might have held him down a few times, but I never fucking belted him and I never fucked him after a beating, alright? Unless the little bitch has been lying to you." Groaning, he pushed himself upright, rubbing his arm. "I'll trust you that he's not got rabies. Good dog.”

“Good boy,” Jim whispered into Sam’s ear, trying to get him to settle down now that he thought Sebastian was on the floor and not about to start attacking him again. “Yeah, he’s got all his shots. Paul didn’t lie to me. Consider us even.” It was worth a try. He doubted very much that Sebastian saw them as being even. “So are you going to help clean up my trashed flat or are you going to leave it for me to trip over and clean up?” He still had a tight hold on Sam’s collar but he thought it might be okay to let him go now that Sebastian seemed to have lost steam and wasn’t raging anymore.

Sebastian glared at him, "Even? I beat your whore up - not because I don't like him even, just to let Mags know how fucking annoyed I am - so you get me fucked then your dog bites me and we're _even."_ He kicked at the wall again then gave a moody sigh, "No I fucking won't clear up. Why don't you get one of your bosses flunky's to do that. And I mean it, dog or no dog if you send some bruiser around to do that to me again I'll rip your tongue out." Daren's fists, Daren's belt and Daren's cock had ripped into some deep part of him, making him feel vulnerable and aching. "And keep that blond Yugoslavian cunt away from me - tear him a new one and all.”

“I don’t know where the phone is, you’ve ruined everything. Find it and I can take it from here. You’d probably be in less trouble if you helped me clean up. I might be persuaded to hide this from Charles if you help clean up, provided you didn’t mark me up. Do I have any bruises?” Jim let go of the dog and stood shakily. He hadn’t intended for Darren to have sex with Sebastian, but he hadn’t expressly forbid it so there was no one to get angry at over it. He couldn’t admit that to Sebastian so he tried to come at it from a position of power and mercy when really he felt a little shit.

"I've ruined everything? What, just through breaking your stupid little table?" Sebastian grumbled, staggering over with a little groan and gently patting Sam on the head, "Easy boy. Your little shit of a master is safe for now.” Limping over to what was left of the cupboard he sighed, moodily kicking around the bits of wood and glancing over at Jim, "No, no bruises. No visible ones anyway. Huh, you should see what your mad cock-fucker did to me I've got an arse like the American flag." Sighing he started picking up the broken items, still kicking moodily at the walls.

“I don’t know what you’ve broken, do I?” Jim was yelling now and he took a breath before exhaling and lowering his volume. “I can’t see. I just know there’s glass on the floor, probably splinters and nails.” He didn’t have shoes on, there wasn’t any way for him to get across the floor without potentially stepping on the dangerous materials on the floor. Jim didn’t like that Sebastian was petting his dog. He was glad that there weren’t any bruises on his face, it would be easier to hide from Mags if it came down to that. “You know even I could see it I could still tell you Paul’s in worse shape. So stop bitching. Although I’m sure it’s quite the sight.” Sebastian had to clean up the table, Jim would never be able to find all of the glass and splinters.

"Look stay fucking still you'll injure yourself." Seb snapped, heading into the kitchen and finding a broom, starting to sweep up the mess, "Where do you keep your damn bin-bags; I wouldn't like your dog getting injured on this mess." He gave a snort as Jim continued speaking, sweeping away the mess into one pile, "Depends how you define 'worse shape'" he muttered quietly. Paul had been badly injured, true, but Seb had been careful not to do anything that would send him to hospital - bruises and scrapes that would clear up from bed-rest. Sebastian felt like a massive chunk had been ripped out just above his stomach, and was still working mostly on automatic. He'd been hard while Daren had fucked him, and the man had certainly made the most of _that_ little fact, but he still felt shaky and tearful - the belt had dragged him back to a childhood spent mostly braced against the table in his father's study and it hadn't been somewhere he'd particularly wanted to go. Sighing he left the first piece of broken furniture in a heap and started on the table. "D'you want to keep this? I mean there's a massive splintered hole in it but you won't exactly have to see that…"

Jim listened to Sebastian’s heavy boots on his hardwood floors, moving back and forth and trying to imagine exactly what he was doing. Jim didn’t even know what was broken. It was incredibly frustrating, Jim had set up everything in his house in a way that he had memorized and letting the bull into the china shop had messed everything up, he didn’t know how to get everything back to the way it was supposed to be. It was frustrating but also alarming, Jim didn’t know if his phone was still working or where it was. It normally rested on the table that broke… He sighed in frustration, “I don’t know if I want to keep it or not, do I? I don’t even know if you’re talking about the couch or the wall or a chair. You have to describe it to me. It’s a safe bet though that it’s not safe for me to keep in the house.”

Sebastian looked at the table and gave another sigh - the anger was leaving him and unfortunately he didn't have many other barriers between him and what had happened the night before with Daren. "It's a fucking table, what do you mean describe it?" He managed unhappily. "Small bastard thing. Wooden. Brown. Wicker-stuff round the edges, that's all destroyed. Probably not safe, I don't fucking know. I can get you a new one if your boss lets me keep my damn job.”

“Okay… no no, I can replace it I just need someone to get it out of the house. Would you move it to the curb?” That would be easier than Jim struggling with it and trying to move it out of the house himself. “Sorry the bin bags are under the sink. If you clean up so it’s safe at least for the dog I’ll take you out and buy you a drink, you sound like you could use that much at least.”

 

"Yeah, I'll get rid of it for you." Sebastian replied quietly, his anger pretty deflated now. He even managed a smile as Jim asked him for a drink, "Heh, thought traditionally you offered people a drink prior to, you know, fucking them up with massive fucking dildo's." He sighed, rubbing a hand shakily through his hair and then scowling. Really he wanted to give Sam a cuddle, but he was Jim's dog and still looking wary of him. Dumping the broken furniture into a skip outside he brushed up the last of the mess. "All clean. You've lost that stupid table and a cupboard thing that was empty apart from two little boxes that are now on your sofa. Right?”

He gave Sebastian a confused look, “I have a cock, I don’t need a dildo. And I don’t fuck the help unless it’s an order from Charles.” Jim finally felt okay to start moving around again after Sebastian stepped outside, dragging the table. He moved slowly around the space, learning where things were now and exploring the hole in his mental map like a missing tooth. The boxes weren’t that important and he’d find somewhere for them later. When Sebastian came back in Jim pointed to the downstairs bathroom. “There’s a kit in there, you’d better get that dog bite seen to. Just because he hasn’t got rabies doesn’t mean he’s not got a shit ton of bacteria in his mouth.” Sam had left them to go in the kitchen and drink from his water bowl. “I appreciate the help.” Jim said reluctantly. Technically it had been Sebastian’s choice to destroy his shit but it would have been a huge pain to do it by himself.

"You don't need a dildo? Why do you employ a great big fucking walking one called Daren then?” Sebastian grumbled, heading over to where Jim gestured the first-aid kit was and feeling a bit shit for beating up furniture in a blind man's house. It seemed very symbolic of how far he'd sunk - here he was terrorising some kid who couldn't see. "Yeah, yeah, well. Didn't want the dog getting glass in his paws, could get nasty." He muttered, patching up his arm, "Fuck do you... do you have a cigarette? I really need a smoke.”

“He’s less dildo and more muscle. He got a little over excited on the job I think. He likes Paul. In the way that you like your car.” Darren liked to use Paul and got frustrated when Jim said he was off limits until he healed. He didn’t think there was any real affection there. “Still, thank you.” Jim appreciated that Sebastian was willing to look out for the dog even if he didn’t give a fuck about Jim. He tugged the matches and crumpled cigarettes out of his pocket, “Sorry they got a bit smashed during the scuffle. You sort yourself out and I’ll get Sam ready. Come here boy…” Jim made his way to the front closet where Sam’s harness hung. He clipped the buckles and Sam sat perfectly still, wagging his tail furiously but still keeping an eye on the stranger who he had bitten.

"Over excited you can fucking say that again." Sebastian rubbed at his arse, pleased that Jim couldn't see it, the shaking sinking feeling that he was going to collapse in the middle was fading a little as normal things happened. "I liked the Serbian kid. He was cute and sulky and a nice little lay. I certainly tipped him well enough or did he not tell you that? Did he only come running to you when I marked his pretty little face up?" He watched Jim get ready, "You know, getting drunk sounds like a fucking fantastic idea right now. You're paying, I take it?”

“He’s from Czechoslovakia. I like him a lot, he’s one of the few decent people there, he’s a hard worker and he puts up with a lot of shit. Giving you Darren wasn’t personal, and I think you’ve learned your lesson. Yes, Paul was actually pretty happy with you until you put him in the infirmary. He can’t work until the injuries clear up. Maybe just think about the people you’re affecting next time, you’re pissed? Fine, but take it up with Mags, not some kid who isn’t going to be able to feed himself for the next couple weeks while he heals.” Jim sighed and stepped outside, enjoying the warm sun on his face. “Yeah I’ll pay. Just let me know where you want to go.”

"Learn my lesson?" Sebastian raised a hand to slap him, dropping it as Sam growled. "Fuck you and fuck everyone who works for you, here." Tugging his wallet out he waved money in Jim's face then growled, remembering he could see, and shoved it into the side of his jeans. "If you don't fucking feed him while he's not working that's not my damn problem is it? Give him that. Tell him he's owed a smack for what Daren did. Let's find a pub, c'mon, I know a good one." He wasn't thinking as he led Jim straight into an old haunt, ignoring the little sign outside that read _No Dogs No Blacks No Irish_

Jim stepped back quickly as he heard Sam growl, although he couldn’t see the hand threatening to slap him it wasn’t difficult to guess he was about to get hit. The blow didn’t come though and Jim relaxed as he let Sam follow Sebastian down the street. He didn’t like Moran threatening Paul but he saw underneath it and understood that the money was a gift. Jim had been providing for Paul out of his pocket and didn’t need the money from Sebastian but at the last minute realized what it would mean to Paul that his mark hadn’t just beaten him and dumped him so he kept the bills although he had no idea what denomination they were. Of course Jim couldn’t see the sign outside the establishment and so he was startled when a man shoved him from behind. Jim tripped on Sam and turned around, snarling at the man. “What the _fuck_ is your problem?”

The man sneered back and Jim could hear it in his voice. “Can’t you fucking read? No dogs, no Irish. Same fucking thing, you both smell like shit. You get the fuck out, are you trying to be funny?” He gave Jim a hard smack on his ear. “Fucking lazy drunks never pay your god damn tabs, whoring on the corner, no wonder you can’t fucking read. How come your hair’s not red then, huh?” The man grabbed a fistful of Jim’s hair, pulling on it until tears automatically sprang up to Jim’s eyes.

"Hey." Sebastian swung a fist around, knocking the man back and snarling up in his face, "He's with me, and his dog is fucking trained. I'm paying, get us a drink."

The man sneered back, shaking his head, "Sorry _Detective Inspector_ but rules are the rules, they don't bend because he can't fucking read them. I'm trying to run a respectable establishment here, not some damn paddy brothel."

Sebastian snarled, fed up with the entire day, "One last chance before I get all the boys down here to fucking burst your place open and set damn fire to it, alright? Get us both a drink.”

“Moran, it’s fine!” Jim reached out and found Moran’s arm. “I don’t want to put any money in his pocket. Let’s just go. There’s plenty of other places.” Jim was fuming, he hated shits like this who were all part of the reason he hadn’t been able to get a job or approved for a home, the small house he lived in was under Magnussen’s name and it was still vandalized regularly. Sam knew better than to growl when his harness was on and he was working but he pulled until Jim moved to put some distance between his human and the aggressive owner.

"You will be in big fucking trouble." Sebastian shouted back as the barman sneered at him.

"Just fucking try it Moran, with all the power you have right now you couldn't hire a minicab in London."

Snarling as he exited Sebastian gave a sigh and leant against the wall, trembling a little. "Look." he said finally. "I don't want to go back to my place because it's all fucked up from when Daren was there. But I do want to get drunk. Very drunk. If I buy the booze can we crash at yours? If I promise not to break anything more?”

When Sebastian spoke he sounded shaken and that was ultimately what convinced Jim to let him come over. For some reason he had a hard time saying no to this man. “You’re buying the booze. Gin or something like that, alright? We’ll drink martinis until we vomit. Let’s go then, lead the way. Sam come. If you break anything more I’ll have your knees broken.” The dog was eager to leave with all of the hostilities in the air.

"Yeah..." They stopped at an off-license on the way and Sebastian bought all the necessary supplies, as well as a good armful of snacks to keep them going. It felt strange going back to Jim's house, to the place where a few hours ago he'd been determined to break to pieces along with the man inside. He mixed a martini for Jim and a gin and tonic for himself, bringing them back in and handing Jim's over. "I fucking grew up on these, when my dad was doing one of his stints in India. Until they packed me off to boarding school. Fuck I hated that place. The school, not India. Loved India; warm and corrupt and everyone did what I said and I could basically run around mostly naked drinking spirits and playing with guns." He gave a laugh, "My mother hated it, 's why she left.”

Jim was glad that Sebastian was paying and that he did the actual shopping, that was something that Jim couldn’t do alone, he needed someone to go shopping with him especially for booze, because they didn’t exactly print labels in braille. If he walked into a liquor store he’d walk out not having any idea of what he bought until he opened it. The fact that Sebastian covered it was nice. He was glad that Sebastian hadn’t destroyed the couch and he sat on it, putting his feet up and trying not to think too much about that arse at the bar. Same hopped up and sat next to him, laying his head on Jim’s lap, ears standing up and swiveling as he watched Sebastian make their drinks. Jim wasn’t sure why Sebastian had brought up his childhood that seemed like such an odd thing. He lit himself a cigarette and downed his first martini of the evening. Now he was determined to get wonderfully drunk. “The only reason I was home today is my father just came back from Russia. I might not have a file at the Met, but he does. James Brooke? Lovely fellow.”

"Brooke..." Sebastian sat on the sofa with a little hiss of breath, "Yeah... I've heard of the name but he's too high up for me. The Russian's are someone else's problem thank fuck. I just deal with the scum in London." He grinned and clinked his glass against Jim's, "No offence, I'm pretty scummy as far as they come. C'n I poach another cigarette? Doesn't seem right drinking without one.”

“Sore?” Jim asked with a little smirk. “First time you got fucked? Hurts, doesn’t it?” Jim figured he couldn’t fuck up a martini so he poured himself another. He grinned victoriously, “He’s not quite gotten over my climb to power. Bit of a sore subject that. How did you get disowned then? Did you fuck your da’s boss too?” Jim tossed the cigarettes back to him, figuring they were going to run through the pack pretty soon.

"Fuck you, no it's not the first time." Sebastian said, flipping two fingers up at him and downing a gulp of the gin and tonic. "I just chronically misbehaved until he got fed up of me. Last straw was when I refused to go on to Oxford after Eton, yeah, yeah I know, poor little rich kid." He gulped back the rest of his drink and shifted awkwardly before snidely asking, "When was your first time then, was it CAM? Did it hurt? Hope it fucking hurt, it's the least you deserve…"

“Poor little rich kid,” Jim agreed. “Maybe if you fuck up again and lose your job you could go back to school. You’ve tried going on your own and it hasn’t worked out all that well for you.” Jim drank about half his drink while he petted Sam’s head, the fur texture was a comfort to him, it was needed because this was a pretty fucking uncomfortable topic for him. “Yeah, it was Charles. And yes it hurt. Maybe I deserve that now but I was only seventeen, I don’t think I deserved it at the time. I suppose you could argue that it’s preemptive karma.”

"You were probably a little bitch when you were seventeen as well, I know I was." Sebastian closed his eyes. Jim couldn't see him doing it and besides, it felt strangely comforting knowing they were both now in the dark. "And enough bloody lip, I was doing absolutely fine before you came along - corrupt, influential and pocketing plenty of backhanders along with my pay. The only snag in my side was breaking in that keen young new boy - and now I'm losing influence, losing friends and losing most of my salary to a rent-boy - did you say he was Czech?" He hesitated and then continued, "Have you fucked him? He starts speaking in an accent when he's all turned on, you know, I only heard it once but it was cute as fuck.”

“Definitely,” Jim agreed, smirking. “God I was angry, all the time. Lashing out at anybody I could. I think Charles found it amusing.” He huffed a little laugh and shook his head. Another sad story, CAM ruined my life, boo hoo. “You’re lucky he’s paying you at all and not blackmailing you. You got one of the good jobs. Yeah he’s Czech.” Jim turned his head to the side, a little further away from where he knew Sebastian was sitting so that he couldn’t see his face very well. “Yeah, we fuck. I’m fond of him, ’s why I didn’t like you laying in to him. If he’d been mouthy, if he bit you or something — fine, but I know he works hard and you shouldn’t have done it.” Jim smiled softly when Sebastian mentioned the accent, Paul was always speaking to him in Czech when they were together, Jim didn’t know that it was totally genuine. “Charles doesn’t mind if I play with other people as long as it’s for a job or he gets to watch.”

"Well I'll keep away from the ones you fondle in future, jesus christ..." Sebastian shifted on the sofa again and shook his head, "Ach, I deserved it though. Fucked him up completely poor little sod, he was all sobbing and begging me not to." He grinned at Jim, "I know you can't see the damage but let me know if you want to feel it. Your Daren was fucking impressive, you would've been proud." Reaching forward he tugged the gin towards him again to top his glass up, deciding not to bother with the tonic.

Jim glanced over at him and held his hand out for the gin bottle when Sebastian was done. “When he heals if you still want him and _if_ he agrees we can discuss terms, but on the condition that you apologize and don’t lay a fucking finger on him. Next time you’re pissed like that I’ll send someone your own size, at least that way they’ve got a sporting chance. Paul doesn’t have a violent bone in his body.” Even if Moran had hurt Jim like that in his mind it would have been better than Paul, not because Jim valued him so highly but because Jim was at least better equipped mentally to handle it. “What am I supposed to be feeling exactly? You just want me to suck you off. Who was better, Paul or I? I won’t be offended if it’s not me, he’s been doing it a lot longer than I have.” Jim put out his cigarette in the ashtray and lit another. 

"Nah - kid deserves someone better than me." Sebastian muttered, not sure he felt like sex at the moment, or indeed ever again. "Fuck off - see what a ridiculously short little Irish bog-twat like you doesn't understand is that I come from a fucking long tradition of bruises as badges. Cane marks at school, belt marks at home, bruised knuckles on the force and chipped teeth on the streets. You did damage, thought you might want to see it but seeing as you can't fucking see ..." He pinched out the cigarette and flicked it into the ashtray. "Forget it. You were better. He was better trained but you were... better.”

Jim shook his head, “See but now you’re sorry and you’re going to be nice to him. If I just throw him back in the fold maybe he gets sent out to someone that’s not as nice.” He thought that Sebastian’s pride in his marks was fucking stupid, probably just some kind of coping mechanism. “Whatever you say. Most people have got to hide it you know?” Jim set his cigarette and drink down and moved Sam’s head off his lap before climbing over half in Sebastian’s lap, half digging into his thigh with his knee. “I want to know what you look like. Charles described you to me but I think he might have been fibbing. Can I?” Jim held up both his hands and gave his fingers a little wiggle to show he wanted to touch Sebastian’s face.

"When did I say I'd be nice to him? Because of him I got beaten and buggered, if I see the bitch again I'll give him a slap." Sebastian raised his eyebrows as Jim was suddenly in his lap, but he wrapped his arms around the boy to keep him in place and nodded before answering a "Yes, fuck why not? Go for it. Try not to let it ruin the image you have in your head of a ruggedly handsome aristocratic young nobleman, brought into bad circumstances. I'm a bit weather-beaten.”

Jim frowned at that and gave his shoulder a smack. He didn’t think Sebastian meant it but he wanted to make it clear what he thought about that anyway. Jim wasn’t sure how he felt about the other man casually touching him — Jim was the only one allowed to casually touch people — but he allowed it because Moran was letting him see him. “Handsome is not how Magnussen described you, but he can be biased. Your type just doesn’t do it for him. I’m sure that breaks your heart.” Jim reached forward and brushed his fingertips over Sebastian’s face, learning the bone structure, the shape of his eyes and his nose and his mouth. His fingertips probably lingered a little bit longer than what was polite over his bottom lip, memorizing how it was bigger than his upper lip. “Huh.” Jim said, nodding. “Are you ever going to ask my name or are you just going to keep calling me blind whore?”

"Oh yeah, I'd just love that lanky fucker pushing his dry used up dick into me..." Sebastian sneered back, falling silent as Jim's fingers trailed over his face. It was hotter than it should have been, and somehow the idea of sex didn't seem like such a sickening concept anymore, as Jim's fingers lingered on his bottom lip, and brushed gently at the bruises Daren had left over his neck, "Go on then." He managed to croak eventually, clearing his throat and keeping his hands on Jim's back "What is your name. I know the dog's called Sam…"

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Jim mumbled dryly, poking at Sebastian’s face as it twisted up into a sneer and tried to get the muscles to relax so that he could get a proper read on him. He didn’t move off of Sebastian’s lap yet, although he probably should have. Jim was flushed lightly from the gin and the hands on his back felt nice, Charles rarely touched him unless it was with that casual dominance. Some might have called it ownership but Jim didn’t like thinking of it that way. “I’m Jim. Jim Moriarty. Your name is Sebastian Moran and you’ve got a scar on your lip and you are impulsive and not very bright when you’re angry or turned on and you like my dog more than you like me. I think that’s all I need to know about you.”

The sneer twisted away into a smile as Jim spoke, partitioning him out and labelling him in a way he was actually rather proud of. "That's all? You don't need to know that my fathers a Lord, that I had results good enough for Oxford and that I used to be in the military? Five years till I got demobbed and ended up in the met - let your boss know that if you want." His hands slid a little more snugly around Jim's body, enjoying the closeness and safeness of it - after moving Paul around like a puppet and desperately trying to fend off Daren this contact was something a bit special. "Top shot rifleman, or I was before I got out of practise." He frowned trying to think of something else and then remembered, taking Jim's hand and sliding it under his shirt, to the three shallow scars running over his ribs. "You'll never guess what that is. 'S a tiger. From India. And I killed the bitch.”

“I knew a lot of that actually. CAM did research on you, of course. But I didn’t think it was important because that’s who you _used_ to be.” Sebastian used to be a rising star. Not so much anymore. That didn’t mean that he was without potential though. He startled a little when Sebastian took his hand and started guiding it down, Jim felt trapped and he was sure that the man was going to place his hand on his cock but instead it was just his chest. Jim felt the scars, traced them with his fingertips and grinned. “You’re having me on. Huh.” That was pretty fucking cool. “You know Charles was telling me he heard of pet shops that are selling them in the city. He was thinking about getting one but… well he decided not to.” He’d actually said something like Jim was enough of a pet for him, but he didn’t want to repeat that.

"Ha yeah, highlight of my life that." Sebastian said wistfully, "I was too old for my dad to belt and too young for the world to smack around. Went out to one of the villages, I was looking for this chap who sold bits of old army guns, trying to find some new sights, and ended up turning around and looking straight into her eyes. They usually back down when you look at them, Tigers, but she must've been desperate or hungry. Thought I was going to die. You know..." he hesitated, and then realised that finishing with the truth - that sometimes he wished he had died right at that moment, with the bloody corpse of the Tiger on top of him, triumphant and immortal in the excitement of his own power, sounded far too stupid, "You know I was damn pleased I had my knife on me." He finished after a pause. "And CAM should absolutely get a Tiger, it would bite his skinny arse off.”

Jim hummed contemplatively as he listened to Sebastian speak, “That’s a good story.” He smirked and moved his hand back from Sebastian’s chest to his shoulder so that he could balance. “I get jealous if I’m not the center of attention and I’m sure that a tiger could upstage me.” Just then the telephone rang and Jim startled a little, realizing that he was still in Sebastian’s lap. He moved back to his side of the couch, lying down on his back and reached for the phone. The cord stretched to where he was, thankfully. “Moriarty.” He greeted. It was pretty rare that anyone tried to get ahold of him this way.

Sebastian had just got a leer in and a, "You want to be the centre of attention?" Before the phone was ringing and he swore, grabbing another cigarette and scowling darkly as Jim was suddenly scrambling off him.

Paul was on the other end of the phone, sounding close to tears and hysterics and babbling crazily, "Oh god - he said he was going to kill you - Jim please be careful, you dad went mad again, he's got a gun, he said he was going to shoot Sam and then beat you to death, oh my god -" his voice was high pitched and crazed and although he couldn't hear the words Sebastian could make out the panic from the other end of the sofa, and recognised who was speaking.

“Shit,” Jim swore, sounding more resigned than anything. Even with CAM’s protection and everything he’d offered him, Jim was still certain, deep down in his bones that his father was going to kill him one day. He’d lived with that knowledge for too long for it to change so easily in his mind. “Calm down, it’s okay. What the fuck did I do?” Jim’s tone was more that of a whiney teenager than genuine fear or concern, his father had threatened and attempted to kill him too many times for it to genuinely scare him anymore. If it happened, it happened. “Just tell me what happened, yeah? I seriously didn’t fucking do anything, he was almost civil yesterday.” Jim stood and walked with the phone shoved between his shoulder and his ear as he felt around and found Sam’s harness. He whistled and Jim started to fit it over him and buckle it around the dog’s ribs.

"C-CAM had a real go at him, I-I don't know what he found out in Moscow but CAM didn't like it at all, and I don't know what he did but your dad came out so angry and then h-he called you a whore and got the gun and knocked me out the way and I just went and hid Jim I couldn't do anything."

Sebastian frowned, muttering "What's the matter?" low and close to Jim's ear.

“Fucking wonderful,” Jim was grateful to Charles and all but he never appreciated it when his lover rubbed their activities in his father’s face. It only pissed him off and sent him after Jim, and it left him feeling like the prize of some game they were playing. “No no you did good Paul. I’m going to hide out now, thanks for the heads up.” Jim hung up the phone and grabbed his leather jacket and sunglasses, pulling them on. “We need to be scarce for a bit. Bring the bottle will you? There’s a park not too far from here, we can fuck around there. Or you can leave if that’s what you’d prefer.”

"Oh, what's up?" Sebastian grabbed the bottle, annoyed at not being able to sit and relax and swearing as he stepped outside into the drizzling rain, "Oh fuck all this. Who are we hiding from? I can give them a slap and lock them in the cells for a night if you want to feel safe, I mean my name might be mud but I do still have the power to arrest people you know. And anyone who works for your boss is bound to have done something worth being arrested for.

“Nah it’s just my da wanting to have a go. No need to call in the cavalry. Best if he doesn’t find me though.” Jim stepped outside and Sam shook out his fur in irritation as the rain drizzled down. “Keep an eye out for him though. Sam’s gotten pretty good at spotting him for me but he’s a sneaky bastard and if there’s a crowd… Anyway he’s about your height, dark hair, scar on his chin, his face is probably about purple right now. Don’t know why CAM’s got to insist on taking the piss.” Jim gave Sam commands as they walked and the dog helped him navigate. The park was only about a ten-minute walk from the house.

"Yeah I'm not sitting in the rain waiting for your old man to destroy any more of your furniture." Sebastian sneered at the sky, "And I'm not watching poor old Sam get kicked out of any more bars. Come back to mine, s'fine, I'll keep the door unlocked so you can scarper if I get too handsy. Wouldn’t want a dangerous criminal with an army of on-call rapists to feel _scared_ now would we?”

Jim glanced at him angrily, “Do I look scared to you? Piss off. We can go back to yours if you want. Did you drive or walk? Yes, poor Sam,” Jim bit out sarcastically. “Getting kicked out because he’s a fucking animal I’m glad I don’t know how that feels.” He couldn’t help huffing a laugh. “You aren’t going to get handsy at all. Lead the way then. It would help if you could tell me when it’s safe to cross the street. I listen of course but it’s harder in the rain.” Sam wouldn’t let him walk into the street if there was a car coming but it was just easier to have someone tell him when the road was clear.

"I sort of ran, fuck all that let’s get a taxi." Sebastian flagged one down, watching out for an angry James Brooke. He helped Jim in when it arrived and threw money at the cabbie when he raised a complaint, "The difference is that Sam is a fucking amazing creature - loyal, trained, loving, helpful. A dog hurts you - it's because you're about to injure them or someone they care for and they want to get you off and down. Not because they just want to watch you hurt. People who are rude to dogs are just bastards. Whereas you are a pissy Paddy bastard who had me fucked up in my own home." He gave his address to the driver and sat back, gently scratching behind Sam's ears.

Jim laughed out loud and it was an awkward sound that was more painful than genuinely humorous. “I’m all of those things too, ’s just I’m not _your_ pet.” For Magnussen Jim was loyal, trained, loving and helpful. “You hurt someone I care for and yeah I hurt you. Difference is that I don’t have teeth or claws to do it myself so I had someone else do it. That’s just good use of resources.” He wasn’t proud of what he did but he wanted to make it clear that it was justified. Jim didn’t hurt people just to hurt them, that was a waste of time.

Sebastian frowned, not sure what he felt about Jim taking things in that direction, pretending he'd made himself the alpha dog in Sebastian's world. "You shouldn't be anyone's pet." He said shortly, not wanting to waste any words and taking a swig of the gin. He gave a little shiver as they got back to his flat - medium sized and usually sorted out by a cleaner but currently covered in the mess of the struggle with Daren. he was suddenly very pleased Jim couldn't see. "Uh... here. Take my arm, there's furniture everywhere I'll get you to the sofa..." he muttered, leading Jim through and then handing him a tumbler full of gin.

Jim was glad that Sebastian wasn’t leaving him to forge through the mess alone, he rested his hand on top of Sebastian’s arm and let the man lead him around furniture and other debris. He led him successfully and Sam followed close behind, sitting and lying down at Jim’s feet. He took the tumbler happily and sipped at it, suddenly feeling a little bit more of the stress of his situation. “Er — thanks. For letting me hang around. He’s gotten really good at finding all of my hiding places over the years, I don’t think anyone is going to expect me to hide here. I’ll need to call Charles soon to let him know where I am.”

"Ha, yeah, I don't think he'll come here" Sebastian went over to his desk and tugged open the top drawer, flipping out his gun, "If he does, I'll get him in the leg. That should keep Magnussen happy - he'll be alive just incapacitated. I could stamp on his balls if you like, he doesn't need those does he?" He wasn't sure why he was promising to beat Jim's dad up, only that he felt a bit like hurting someone. "So why does he try and kill you - other than you being a brat?”

Jim frowned and shrugged, sipping at his drink and they getting a cigarette lit. “Not totally sure. Apparently this time Charles got sore at him and thought it would be a good idea to rub in the fact that we — well you know. He gave him details. They’re both bloody fucking children. Apparently he can’t stand the disgrace. Some people don’t really need an excuse to hurt others.”

Sebastian shook his head and made a bit of a face. "Still can't imagine you and Mags - well I suppose it helps that you can't see him heh. You know he's ugly as sin, right? Probably fucks like he talks, all vague and dull." He picked up a drink for himself and then collapsed down on the sofa next to Jim, sighing and looking at the mess the flat was in, "Fuck this. Cleaner's coming tomorrow, I don't care what her schedule is. No need to live in a tip. Well, cheers. Here's to your da not murdering you and your boss not screwing you.”

“Why would you imagine it anyway? It’s not your business. And he’s not ugly, I might not be able to see but I still have these…” Jim wiggled his fingers of his fee hand at Sebastian. “And no he isn’t dull. We had Paul in the bed with us the other day, he loved it.” Jim bragged. That — might have been stretching the truth, Paul loved being with Jim. “He’s not dull or vague… it’s not like his voice, it’s like… his gaze?” Jim wasn’t sure how to explain that as Sebastian probably understood what it felt like to be stared down by Charles more than he did. Even if he couldn’t see Jim could often feel him watching, like hands over his skin. “I don’t mind the mess, just don’t let me trip on anything. And I’m not drinking to that! Well the bit about my da sure, but fuck you.” Jim was smiling and shaking his head. “You’re a nutter you know that?”

"I'm a policeman, so watch it or I'll haul you down, shove you inside and let the big boys have a go at you." Sebastian leered at him, knowing the affect would be lost and so patting Jim's leg instead. "I can't believe you dragged poor, sweet, pretty little Paul into your sordid games. That boy deserves better than that, far better than I bloody gave him as well before you ask. Not that he has any choice." He tipped the drink back and relaxed, his body pressing against Jim's, pleased to have another person in the house who was happy to talk, rather than just trying to hit him or for fucking, "Well he gazed at me and I felt no particular urge to jump into bed with him." He grumbled.

“Oh is that your kink then? Bullying twinks while in your uniform, your little handcuffs and your nightstick.” He frowned and knocked Sebastian’s hand away from his thigh impatiently, “I’m a criminal, I don’t have any sexual interests in policemen. And Paul loved it, I am a very good lover.” Jim was good, he was attentive and careful, like with everything he did. He did finish his own drink though, despite his reservations about the toast. “No I’m not saying when he looks at you it’s this spell to get you into bed with him. I’m saying that he fucks the way he looks at people — direct and calculating and it makes your knees weak but you don’t buckle because then you’re through.”

"Well if I was even remotely interested in getting cocks to fuck me maybe I'd consider it. You know, if I was mad and had a death wish." Sebastian gave a laugh, leaving a it a few seconds before sliding his hand back onto Jim's thigh, giving it a squeeze. "I don't know about kink, but it's certainly my damn job. Criminals get knocked around and stuck in jail, and if they're as pretty as you they'll make lots of friends there." His eyes raised at Jim's impertinence, "No sexual interest in policemen? My heard breaks. You were good enough at blowjobs I know that.”

“Not even remotely interested? Well, I get to tell Magnussen that he was wrong for once. He seemed to think you’d be very taken with the practice.” Jim glared at him, a little off target with his gaze but he thought the expression was clear enough. “I’m aware of what happens to people like me in jail, why do you think I sucked you off instead of calling Mags and getting a good lawyer hmmm? You couldn’t have actually gotten me with the drugs. I was just _lost_ and disoriented, I had no idea what they were doing I was just asking for directions.” Jim smirked, “You never have something you’re good at even if you don’t like doing it. Now take your hand away or I’ll get Sam to bite you again.” The dog raised his head quietly from the floor but he settled down again, tired from the excitement of the day.

"You sure I can't get you to _bite_ me again?" Sebastian smirked, giving his thigh another squeeze, "You know I've no interest in getting ploughed, do I look like the sort of pansy little queer who bends over for other men, hmm? Your fucking pet basket-case had to practically beat me into submission and even then I fucked him up as far as I could. And you might have a powerful boss with a powerful lawyer but you're still happy to give blowjobs to big bad policemen and if I didn't know better I'd say that was your _kink…"_

Jim’s expression closed off and he pulled away from the contact between their bodies. He faced enough hatred for his sexuality, Jim didn’t have to take it from another man who was in the same position as him. “I need to use your phone please.” His voice was mild but Jim needed to let someone know where he was and hopefully Magnussen would get around to picking him up.

"It's in the hall." Sebastian snapped, then rolled his eyes remembering Jim couldn't see, "Oh for... alright, come with me. You'll have to touch me to actually take you there, yeah?" Taking Jim's arm, and gripping it maybe a bit firmer than necessary, he lead him out to the hall, picking up the phone and handing it over. "Don't phone anywhere expensive, not now everyone's stopped bribing me." He headed back to the sofa, giving Jim a quick little pat on the rear as he went.

“Ow,” Jim hissed as Sebastian grabbed his arm and he tripped when he couldn’t get his balance. “You’re not supposed to grab me when you guide someone — oh never mind.” Jim felt on the wall for the phone when he stopped and then he stuck his finger in the rotary and dialed the familiar number. It was difficult to do without sight but not impossible. “Just Mags. God damn it Moran.” Jim snarled as he swatted at his arse.

"Jim, please make this fast I am very busy." Magnussen answered sharply, his voice mellowing a little at Jim's tone. "Are you in trouble, is Moran there? What is he doing?" He put a hand over the receiver to snap at someone else in the room and then came back, "Do you need me to send someone to where you are?”

“Sorry to bother you,” Jim tone was sulky and resentful. “You’re the one that got me in this position in the first place. I was at home, and Paul called. Apparently da is going to shoot me and hit my dog… or was it the other way around? Doesn’t matter.” Jim was a little drunk and it showed in his voice. “I’m at Moran’s. I want someone to come pick me up. Do you have the address? If you don’t you could always send Darren, he knows where the place is.” Jim taunted Sebastian from where he was leaning against the wall.

"You are drunk and you are silly and you are chasing that policeman." Magnussen replied calmly, "And if it were anyone else interrupting what I'm currently doing I would have them killed. But you are my Jimmy, and I am fond of you. I will send Darren around, please try not to be ravished before then as I would rather like you tonight - if this deal works we can celebrate. It if doesn't... well. I will want you. Stop drinking now, and stay close to Sam." Sebastian flipped him off from the living room, unable to hear the other side of the conversation.

Jim thought that was a very unfair accusation but he couldn’t say anymore without getting Sebastian in a huge amount of trouble. And yeah he was a bastard but Jim didn’t think he really deserved to have his face peeled off with a knife, which would be very likely to happen if Magnussen found out that he broke into Jim’s home and attacked him. He shivered unhappily, hoping for his own sake that the deal went well and they would be celebrating instead. It was pretty rare that things didn’t go Magnussen’s way but when they didn’t Jim got the brunt of it. “I’ll try and contain myself,” He said dryly. Jim of course couldn’t see Sebastian flip him off. “I’ll see you at the house then.” Jim felt along the wall for the cradle and hung the phone up. He sat down on the floor morosely, leaning against the wall then whistled for Sam who came and sat with his head in Jim’s lap for pets. “Just to give you fair warning, Darren is coming to pick me up. Wouldn’t want you to have a nasty surprise. He’s not going to do anything to you.”

"What?" Sebastian yelped and glared at him, snapping you, "If you can't fucking tell I am angry now. You asked that fucking walking scrotum to send over the guy who assaulted me fucking yesterday? What the hell did I do this time? I brought you home and got you a drink, that's all." He glared at Jim, rolling his eyes and moving his hands non-threateningly as Sam growled. "Yeah, yeah, don't worry. But if it wasn't for that dog I swear I'd slap you one for that stunt.”

“Yeah well you’re just lucky he’s used to seeing me with bruises because you’d be fucked. I hope that dog bite hurts.” Jim wasn’t in the mood to listen to his whining, Sebastian had known exactly what he was doing and it made Jim angry to hear him play it off like he’d been behaving with complete propriety and innocence. “He shouldn’t bother you, if he’s on a job for Mags he isn’t going to misbehave.” Not in the mood Mags was in anyway.

"Yeah well I can gather you're used to it given you're a goddam whore." Sebastian snarled back, arms wrapping around himself almost unconsciously, "Most normal people, after they've been fucked up by a mad rapist tend not to want to see the fucker the very next day. I don't care if he's going to attack me or not I don't want him fucking turning up in my house." He scowled and kicked a piece of broken furniture before snapping, "Just keep him on a damn lead alright?”

“I’m not a whore, I’ve never done it for money. And he’s used to seeing bruises on me because my da is a total bastard and I can’t see so I have accidents. Quit being a cunt, what he did was punishment and you haven’t done anything else to be punished, calm down.” Jim already realized that Darren’s punishment had gone too far, but that was his fault for not being specific enough with his instructions. He certainly wasn’t going to tell Sebastian he was raped because of a misunderstanding. It was better to seem cruel than incompetent. He sighed unhappily and wished he could have another drink but Magnussen told him to stop. “He’s only here on assignment, you don’t have to worry about him turning up all the time. There’s certainly no reason for me to be back here.” Jim was probably going to be in enough trouble as it was. He had no idea how he was going to spin this with Mags.

"I'm gonna try and explain it one more time." Sebastian snarled, keeping back from the dog but raising his voice at Jim. "I'm. Not. Fucking. Worried. About. What. He'll. Do. I just don't want to _see_ him. I don't want to look at his ugly fucking face, and I don't want to hear what he says and I especially don't want you to fucking hear him say it. And yes you are a fucking whore - you gave me a blowjob when you didn't particularly damn want to for your own benefit. That's being a whore darling, no matter what you try and tell yourself." He moodily stomped into the kitchen, grabbing the drink and pouring out two glasses, gently placing one by Jim, "Glass for you, two inches to the left of your right hand. You look like you need it. What, you been naughty coming to see me? Mags gonna have you spanked? Heh.”

“I’m not supposed to have any more to drink.” Jim wasn’t very good at doing what he was told though and he carefully reached out for the glass before draining it down. Mags wouldn’t know, he would probably be working late and Jim would likely be mostly sober by the time he was done. Jim didn’t like being yelled at or threatened but he’d sort of earned it. “Fuck you. It’s none of your business why or who I choose to be with. It doesn’t make me a whore.” It sort of did though. Magnussen paid for everything he owned, technically Jim probably made a salary working for him but he never knew what it was, just that Charles bought his little house and his clothes and food and everything he asked for. He sniffed and reached down to pet Sam who was still tense from Sebastian’s aggressive behavior. “I’ll leave quickly okay. Or I can wait on the curb, he doesn’t even need to come in.”

"I'm not leaving you out on the curb, Jesus fucking wept." Sebastian drained the glass and poured another, sighing. "Look just... just whatever he says don't fucking smirk alright?" Jim was looking a little pathetic and Seb was aware that he was going back to Magnussen, and probably more horrible sex with the man, "Ugh, just, yeah it's alright." He drank again, keeping mostly silent until there was a knock on the door. Keeping his face blank, he opened it, Darren behind it nodded and gave him a grin, "Moran! Sorry to disappoint you but I've no time for another round. Jerk off later. I'm just here to collect the rubbish…”

Jim stood as Darren showed up, hooking up Sam to his harness and moved towards Darren’s voice. The confidence was back with all trace of vulnerability gone. “You’re this rubbish’s bitch tonight Darren, I want to leave now. Thank you for your help Moran.” Sort of. Mostly he’d destroyed Jim’s furniture. But he’d brought him back to his place and that was certainly worth something.

Darren smirked at Seb and gave him an obscene hand guesture while Sebastian flipped him off, "Your call Jimmy. Sure you don't want me to give him another round? He fucking loved it once we got going..."

"Just piss off." Sebastian snapped, "Piss off and if I see you anywhere near here again I'll have a bullet up your arse and handcuffs snapped on you faster than you can move."

Darren gave him a grin and then held out his arm for Jim, "Awwww... poor little Moran, all hurt and sore. Am I driving you straight back then, Jim?”

Jim rolled his eyes and felt from Darren’s shoulder to his forearm so that he could grab on to him and be guided out of the house. “Well I want you to come back with me to my house and help me clear out some furniture but there’s a possibility my da will come around and I don’t think you’d fight him on my behalf. Chivalry is dead.” Jim smirked as he teased Darren and they headed out the door with Sam. “Magnussen wants me as his house though, when we can.”

"I'm not going anywhere your dad is hanging around, fuckers mental." Darren grumbled, grinning as they left and then giving a chuckle at Jim, "God you should've seen Moran's face. It kills him to think he actually fucking came from a dick in his arse. Repressed rozzer wanker. Back to the boss's then, he's in a big fucking meeting right now, something huge. He sent a flunky to tell me to get you out, I don't usually get flunkys.”

“That’s what he said. Still, I appreciate you coming to get me even if it was only because you were told.” Jim ignored everything that Darren said about Moran, he didn’t want to think about it too much, he had enough on his plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Discussions of rape, child abuse. Racist, homophobic, whorephobic language. Victim blaming.


	5. I Want to Wake Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up this chapter is pretty upsetting, at least it was upsetting for me to write and edit. I would definitely check the end notes for trigger warnings, and if you want to skip the first half of the chapter, scroll till you see the line break and read from there. There is a synopsis marked by an asterisk that lets you know about plot developments if the first half is too hard or upsetting to read. That way no one has to miss anything important. -Magpie

Jim spent the next few hours preparing, cleaning himself out and soaking in the bath, making sure that he was sober enough and smelling nice, anything to make sure this went as well as it could. Jim liked having sex with Magnussen, he was good and usually just the right amount of trouble for Jim to feel dangerous. But there were times when he was angry that Jim walked away hurting more than he enjoyed it, like the first time they had been together. Jim wanted to make sure that he did everything he could to make sure they had a good evening together. Sam was curled up in his dog bed on the floor and Jim stretched out naked in the bed, sleeping after the stress from the day and the drink.

Magnussen entered softly, giving a small tight smile as he saw Jim fast asleep on the bed, all naked and soft and smelling gorgeous. Coming over, he gently slid a hand down Jim's back and then stopped it in the small of his back to bend down and whisper, "Today we have opened up many new channels and opened a whole new area of business. In America! I am feeling very clever, Jimmy, and I want to continue to feel so. Stay asleep, stay asleep and let me believe I could come back to my room and violate a sleeping little boy before he woke up at the moment of climax and fell in love with me." Fondly, he patted Jim's bottom, then very gently lifted the covers back. "And we will sort out Moran later, believe me.”

Jim sort of woke up as he felt Magnussen touch his bare skin but he kept his eyes closed when he heard what Magnussen wanted. He felt nauseous but it wasn’t difficult, all Jim had to do was keep his breathing deep and even, play up the right sleepy little moans. He would just pretend this was a dream. It wasn’t real, this was just a game they were playing, in on it together. Charles wasn’t really violating him. He made a vague sleepy noise to show he understood, even as he relaxed his body and rubbed his face against his pillow.

Magnussen's hands worked down his body, gently stroking and pressing where he felt it least likely to wake Jim. His hands moved and then a pillow slid itself under Jim's hips, lifting his bottom to the right angle for him to enter with minimal fuss. "Jimmy..." He moaned gently, and then hesitated. "A good dream, hmm? You are having an excellent dream but... I think I would like you to wake when I enter you. So confused, so sleepy but yielding to me because it feels so, so good.” He rubbed softly around Jim's backside and murmured, almost too soft to hear, "What a pity you grow up.”

He settled down onto the pillow as Magnussen fit it under him, rubbing himself against it to try and get hard because that would make it easier if he didn’t use lube. Jim had already cleaned himself out, even stretched himself and used lube just in case Charles was in too much of a hurry. He knew he could be punished for that but he could plead ignorance and that he was trying to make him happy. Jim listened carefully even though he was letting his sleepy haze stay over his mind, that happy place where you wake up from a nap after drinking, still a little tipsy where everything is warm and soft. It was better to focus on that. At least he was going to be gentle. Charles’ hands felt good but his words almost shocked him. It was something Jim had suspected all along and he recognized that one day he might become too old for Charles and he would find another vulnerable boy to pamper.

Magnussen's hands continued to ghost over Jim's body, patting and petting at his skin, sliding over the back of his neck, and then gently rubbing between his bottom over the little entrance hole, "Mmm... yes... there it is, so perfect." Magnussen whispered, the bed creaking as he got up onto it. His hands pressed on either side of Jim's arse and parted it gently and then his hard cock pressed against the entrance, "Try not to scream, Jimmy, because I think this may wake you…"

Magnussen was still dressed and Jim could feel the material from his trousers scraping against the bare skin of his thighs. He didn’t want to think about why this turned either of them on or why it made Charles feel _clever_ or powerful, so instead he continued rubbing against the pillow, feeling his cock swell slowly. He started rutting harder as Charles touched him there, rubbing over his hole and teasing him. Charles’ cock pressed against his entrance, beginning to spread him open and Jim moaned quietly as he fluttered his eyes open. It was all for show of course, he couldn’t see regardless of it they were open or not. “Mmmm… daddy?” Jim knew that Charles liked referring to himself that way, liked it even more when Jim did it and now this seemed like a good time. He didn’t really like it, because of the problems he had with his father, but he’s never called Richard Brooke _daddy_ in his life so the association wasn’t as strong to him. “What are you doing?” His voice was carefully slurred in sleep and drink.

"Shh my boy..." Magnussemn murmured gently, one hand still stroking Jim's bottom softly, "Shh now, this will hurt a little, and then it will be very good." Gently he patted Jim's hip then held it firmly in place with one hand pressing on the small of Jim's back, he bumped his cock up against the entrance and then thrust forward hard in one movement, gasping at the tightness. Jim had prepared, and he was grateful for that as it would have been almost impossible without tearing him otherwise, and now he could continue with the fantasy in slick tight heat, clamped hard around the sudden intrusion of his cock. Leaning over the prone body he gently kissed Jim's back, "Be good now... this will not be over quickly so you'll need to be good for a long while, yes?”

“O-ow… but it hurts?” It really was a stretch, even with the prep Jim did beforehand but it didn’t hurt him. This was all part of Charles’ fantasy but Jim flushed as he felt his cock twitch. He rubbed against the pillow happily. “Is this a dream? It feels so good.” He gasped as Charles pressed all the way inside and Jim clamped down tight around him. There were wet lips and hot breath against the skin of his back and Jim moaned as he pressed back against Charles, trying to take as much as he could get. “It hurts I don’t know if I can be good.”

Charles chuckled as he heard Jim trying his hardest to keep him with the fantasy despite clearly enjoying himself. He kissed up Jim's neck his other hand holding Jim's hips tightly, pressing in and out, "Does it feel good? Of course it does, you are perfect." He smiled, his free hand sliding around Jim to tweak at his nipples, "You were naughty today, phoning me at work, but I'm pleased you did if you needed to get out. Tomorrow you will do a job for me, you will go down to the station and tell them all about what the bad and terrible Sebastian Moran did to you. You will cry, and complain, and do whatever you need to. I need him fired, I need him out. We are expanding into America, and I can't do that if the police here are happy to allow Holmes free reign." He continued thrusting as he talked, sliding in and out of Jim, pressing down hard, giving Jim everything he wanted to take.

“Oh - okay, whatever you say. Please just stop hurting me, I want to wake up.” Jim started crying quietly, he’d learned a lot time ago how to make himself cry at will. The tears soaked into the pillow and his face rubbed against it as Magnussen rocked him forward with the force of his thrusts. “F-feels good but I like it. It’s embarrassing.” He buried his face in the pillow, playing the young and inexperienced boy that Charles apparently wanted tonight. “What did Moran do?” Jim wasn’t sure exactly what Charles was talking about, if he knew about this afternoon or not. “I didn’t mean to be bad, you didn’t tell me I couldn’t call you. I needed you.”

"Shhh it's okay, you will wake up and it will be wonderful." Magnussen's hips pistoned in and out of him, moaning gently and rubbed a thumb under Jim's eyes encouragingly, "Good boy, very good. You will like it a lot more. Moran, oh if we must talk work, Moran is controlled by Holmes. I cannot have officers that take bribes from Holmes in my city. It is big important work, my little Jimmy, too important for you. You just concentrate on feeling good, and making me feel good, yes? That is your job and you are so, so very good at it.”

Jim flinched a little as he suddenly felt Magnussen’s fingers near his eye, it was startling when he couldn’t see it coming. “No no…” Jim understood why Sebastian couldn’t be allowed in a position of power anymore, not with the way he’d been acting. “What am I going to tell them he did?” Was it breaking and entering? That he destroyed his property and threatened him? He almost broke character when Charles said the work was too important for him, that he was basically there as a sex object. That had _better_ have been another part of the fantasy. It only struck home because Jim knew that that’s what everyone said. He didn’t have any real power or responsibility and that Charles was only humoring him. That just wasn’t true though.

"Tell them he did what he did." Magnussen murmured, kissing along his neck, the fantasy almost broken now but he was happy to keep discussing expanding his empire with the soft pretty young man beneath him. "That he forced you to suck him off in the back of a police car. There was one other policeman there, yes? He will be a witness for you, he can collaborate. You can look pretty and helpless and pathetic and I will get one of the girls to support you as your _dedicated_ long-term girlfriend. That will finish him, and that is all you need to do.”

Jim was relieved that he further illuminated what he wanted, but he wasn’t necessarily pleased about what he had to say. Sexual assault wasn’t something that men reported. Jim also rather thought it was likely to get him punched in the face but he could take a hit. Jim laid there and moaned as his mind whirled, planning what he would say, how he would act, and what he would look like. Even if he wasn’t very happy about what he would be doing, it was still a project and his mind thrived at the opportunity.

Magnussen stroked him, and thrust, and left little kisses and bites over Jim's back with a murmur of "I cannot mark you too much, not if you're going into the police station." His hips thrust even harder, hammering away at Jim's backside, "It would be bad to have you limping in, hmm?”

Jim rather supposed they had lost a lot of the fantasy because Charles was suddenly very practical about it and Jim started to sweat lightly as he felt his climax building. His cock was hard and aching as it rubbed against the pillow. “N-no. Fuck me up. I can use it.”

"Mmmm... you are wonderful." Magnussen purred, grabbing at his hips and hammering hard, reaching around with one hand kindly to stroke his hardening cock, "Such a good boy, I'll look after you, you know that? That you are so important to me, so useful and so clever in all your little ways." He gave a grunt and gasped softly, reaching down to lick around Jim's ear, "Talk to me, lovely boy, tell me what I want to hear.”

That childish part of Jim, who had been groomed by Magnussen for this, glowed at the compliments, and that pride made him ashamed. Everything was so complicated and Jim was currently far too invested in their activities so he put those thoughts and questions on hold until after, when they were done and their sweat was cooling and Jim would be left to think about the reality that his life had become. “I - I know you will. You always did. Ah - ah — I… I belong to you.” Jim started with the things Magnussen wanted to hear, things he said to Jim in the dark when he probably thought he was asleep. “I want you, no one else. I’d do anything for you.” They weren’t truths, at least Jim didn’t think of them in that way, but this too was part of fantasy. “Harder. Fuck me harder.” Jim gasped as it started to become uncomfortable, he really was going to be limping tomorrow. “Bruise me, mark me.” Every little discoloration on his skin was going to be another nail in Moran’s coffin.

Magnussen smiled like a shark, sensing Jim was making his own plans for what he was going to say about Moran, "But of course... you ended up in his house yesterday. You should be limping, bruised, marked." One hand gripped at Jim's hips while the other grabbed his wrist, squeezing and twisting, "Just make sure to wash off any of the wrong fingerprints, hmm? And maybe when you've cum like a good little boy I'll slide a nice big vibrating cock into you to make you bruised inside as well. Would that be helpful?”

Jim whined as Charles reached around to grab and squeeze at his skin, bruising him up presumably, although Jim could only go by what he felt because he wouldn’t have to watch the color spread across his skin. “I’ll take a shower after. Do you want to have my face marked too? I don’t want to have to strip in front of the whole of Scotland Yard if I can help it.” Jim screwed up his expression as Magnussen hammered into him, jabbing at his prostate roughly. “I can’t hold on much longer.” Jim whined, hoping that Charles was close and he wouldn’t have to lie there long after he came. He gave a little shutter at the thought of the vibrator, Charles had been threatening to use it for a while and Jim had always talked his way out of it. He wasn’t really sure if that thing was fit for human use, it was probably more of a novelty item than anything. Charles was limited with the force he could get behind his hips but a vibrator could do some serious damage. “I don’t want to… I think this is good enough.”

"Don't be silly, they will need to examine you, and they will need to see that you have been properly pummeled." Charles said, smiling at the thought that this was partial punishment for the embarrassment he'd suffered during his meeting. Jim whining was fun anyway, nobody else was allowed to give him any shit, but Jim he indulged complaints from. "Get Darren to give you a mark on your face if you feel you need it. I'm sure he will oblige. It is your choice though, you know what story you will spin.”

Jim panted against the pillow, desperately trying to think of other things so that he could postpone his orgasm. “So - so you’re not going to use that thing then?” He swallowed hard and nodded, thinking that he should probably ask Darren tomorrow, hell his father would be happy to oblige. “You’re okay with all of those police officers seeing me? Touching me? Going home to jack off next to their wives in bed?”

"They will not fuck you - if they do I will kill them." Magnussen answered calmly, tutting as he recognised what Jim was doing. "It will still happen, Jimmy, I can still plug you in and make sure you are properly taken. Don't look at me like that - you will enjoy it, you will have many more orgasms, yes? It's me who should be jealous, that you will be having them over an ugly machine instead of over your lover.”

“Well you’re not the one getting plugged into it.” Jim muttered into the pillow. The idea excited him but it was just an idea, the reality that in a few moments he was going to be stretched far wider than he had before, with the sole purpose of hurting him in such an intimate area was not pleasant. “They won’t fuck me but you are okay with them looking and touching? Or is it just because it’s on your orders that it’s okay?”

"Many men look at you and touch you - and this is for a very important task." Magnussen said gravely. His hand moved away from hurting Jim, sliding down to sensitive areas gently stroking and touching, "Mmm... I am so very close, come for me, my Jimmy, come on, show me how much I mean to you..." he licked at Jim's ear, for a moment treating him as close as he knew Jim liked to be treated, a small treat before the work began.

Jim had been about ready to pop a vein anyway, as soon as he had permission Jim came in a hot rush onto the pillow, with his lover’s mouth and voice close to his ear and his chest pressed against Jim’s back. He decided to relax and enjoy his orgasm haze because in a minute he was going to be in quite a lot of pain. Jim was tense and nervous, not wanting to do this but knowing if he complained too much Charles would probably just hold him down and sodomize him. Jim liked rough sex, he could do this. And Charles was right, he would probably come again.

Magnussen let him recover, whispering soothing things into his ear and then withdrawing as he started to move again. Picking up the little bottle of lube he tossed it to Jim. "Go on. Prepare. I'm not cruel. This will bruise you enough without tearing you as well." From the cupboard he tugged out a large vibrator, attached to a plug by a cord, quickly checking it to see if it was safe and the wires unfrayed. "There we are, perfect working order. We will plug you in and make sure you look very well screwed over.”

Jim shrugged warily as he quickly stretched himself as much as he could with just his fingers. The important thing was the lube and at least he’d already had a cock up there… this was just going to be significantly bigger. Jim waited in tense anticipation as Magnussen plugged it in and the dildo whirled to life, making a lot of noise and shaking in Charles’ hand. He was still nervous and unhappy that this was being done to him… they probably wouldn’t even check his arse and Jim could fake a limp, but he suspected that Charles had just finally found an excuse for why Jim had to do it after trying to talk him into it for months. Jim tossed the lube back to him. “Go ahead and lube it up and stick it in. Whatever you want.” That was obviously all that mattered. “Can I get blitzed first at least?”

"No. No drugs. I don't want them finding any excuse for you." Magnussen said sharply, propping Jim's bottom up again and guiding the shuddering vibrator into it. It took a good few hard thrusts to get it in and he sat back, patting Jim's backside as he shivered under the assault of the whirring machine. "Very nice. Now, stay here. Let it do its magic. Do not try and take it out, I do not want to have to tie you up, it might cause complicated questions." One more little squeeze to his bottom and Magnussen rolled over, pulling the duvet over himself and murmuring as he closed his eyes, "It will be a long night for you, my little Jimmy, but I know you will survive.”

Jim bit down hard on his pillow as Charles worked the giant thing in there, the position was awkward and Jim couldn’t relax. He didn’t want to make any noise and let on how much it hurt. “W-wait. All night? Are you serious?” His voice was tense from pain and discomfort. That really wasn’t necessary. Jim was a little pissed off when Magnussen just left him there, in his mind that proved he didn’t really care about authenticity. Jim needed to be hurt and bruised but instead of thrusting that thing around inside him and getting the job done he wanted Jim to feel _pleasure._ Doing something he expressly didn’t want to do.

Magnussen turned to look at him and then sighed, stroking his back gently, "You look so beautiful biting your lip in pain, bottom shuddering, already fucked and covered in cum. Would you like Darren in here, to fuck you with it while you cry out so prettily?"

Jim shuddered and shook his head. “No. No it’s fine I can do it myself.” He reached down and pulled the end of the dildo until it was almost out of him, taking a few moments to breathe and enjoy not being filled, before he forced it into himself hard. Jim gasped in pain, tears springing up to his eyes but after a few more thrusts like that he cock started to twitch in interest. “I can take it out after I come?”

Magnussen watched him, pale eyes sparkling. For a moment he hesitated, just enough to see the panic spread across Jim's face and then he smiled and nodded, reaching forward to kiss him. "Of course you can, if you feel the damage is sufficient for the story you need to spin. Make yourself cum from it, like a naughty little boy playing with his parent’s toys. Then you can stop, and sleep.”

Jim couldn’t hide his relief, having a vibrator in that long would not be hot at all, he’d go numb eventually. He wasn’t going to thank Charles, because that would have been an unreasonable request anyway. Jim kissed him back, deciding the vibrator wasn’t that bad and it wasn’t any use being angry or resentful towards him anyway. He knew not to bite the hand that fed him. “Yes daddy.” He quipped, a little sarcastically after all of the comments Charles had made tonight about how old he was. Jim thrust the dildo in him for a few minutes, wincing each time but after a time that pain warmed him, he adjusted to the size of the thing and eventually he got moaning and writhing on the bed, cock hard again and bobbing against his stomach while he laid on his back with his knees drawn up to make room for the huge thing inside him. When he felt bruised and raw enough to pass inspection Jim came with a muffled cry so that he wouldn’t wake Charles if he’d managed to fall asleep. He finally took the thing out, whimpering in pain and turning the vibrator off before just throwing it on the floor. Jim thought about showering but even though he was very familiar with Charles’ home it was still difficult and time consuming to manage a shower by himself. He was intensely worn out so instead he curled around Charles’ back and decided to clean up in the morning.

 

* * *

 

 

Sebastian had thrown a bit of a moody when Jim left, flinging around and breaking the last of his possessions before calling the cleaning lady and shouting at her until she agreed to come the next day. He wasn't in the best of moods when he headed to the office, doing some paperwork and scowling at anyone who entered until Lestrade came to the door with a grim look on his face, "Sir? You, there's a situation at the front desk. I think you should come..."

Sebastian stood and glared at him, "This better be fucking important..." he strode out to the desk, stopping short as he saw Jim. The boy was limping, and looking hurt and damaged. Angrily he stormed forwards, brushing aside the duty sergeant attempting to grab him and snapped, "Alright, what the fuck is this. What's happened?”

The sergeant watched Moran suspiciously, not really sure who to believe in this situation but these were some very serious allegations. It was pretty obvious that someone had hurt the kid and if he was completely honest it wouldn’t have surprised him at all if Moran did it. “Look, kid… why don’t you go wait with your girlfriend and I’ll be out with you shortly. It’s uhhh… Lestrade just take him there? And meet us in room two when you’re done. Moran come with me, I need to speak with you privately.” Jim gripped hard to Sam’s harness and he gave a low warning growl when he saw Moran. Jim knew Moran was a shit cop but it was possible he didn’t deserve to fall this hard from grace. But he was very careful to look afraid when the sergeant spoke to Moran. He followed out after Lestrade.

"What the hell is he saying..." Sebastian growled, watching Jim confused as he left, "He'll want to speak to me, it's nothing the fuck to do with you." Angrily, he followed the sergeant out, snapping as soon as they entered the room, "Alright, what's going on. Who attacked the kid, and what's he doing here with it? He's one of CAMs stooges, the underworld deals with their own.”

“No, I seriously doubt that he wants to speak with you.” The sergeant considered everything that he knew about Moran before deciding which approach to take to get him to talk. “Look… I get it okay? It’s got to be hard for people with… urges like yours. I’m not going to pretend to understand that. I think at one time or another we’ve all gotten favors, taken things we strictly shouldn’t have but what’s the harm right? You probably thought you were doing him a favor. I get it, a warm mouth is a warm mouth.” Sergeant Porter felt sick just saying it, but he wanted to play up to Moran’s casual attitude and draw him in. “I just need to know if you did it or not so that the department knows how to cover our asses. I know you did it, you were bragging about it to Lestrade. If you own up to it I can get you some leeway going forward.”

Sebastian frowned at him, starting to feel a bit wary and glancing at the door, "Fuck are you on about." He growled, "You need to know that I did it but you know that I did it? What does me getting a fucking blowjob from one of CAMs punks have to do with him stumbling in here looking like shit?” He frowned, a detail of the earlier conversation sticking in his mind, "And since when does he have a girlfriend? I told you, he's a punk. Yeah, okay, so it's shady as hell and not exactly legal but who gives a shit? He's not pressing charges..." he hesitated on that point, the gears working behind his mind.

“They’ve been together for a few years. Sweethearts apparently.” Porter knew this was going to be tough, whatever moral issues Moran had he was still a good cop and he knew the tricks of an interrogation. That’s why they were in one of their interview rooms and the recorders were running. “So you admit that you met James Moriarty, you coerced him into performing fellatio on you in your squad car while you were on duty and that you drove him home after, that you returned to his home yesterday and smashed up his furniture and sodomized him in his home against his will after assaulting him. Is that correct?” Porter didn’t mention yet that Moriarty _was_ pressing charges, or at least filing a complaint with the department.

"No that is not fucking correct." Moran snarled, noticing the recording equipment and resisting the urge to smash it up. "I admit that I, Sebastian Moran being of sound body although clearly fucked up mind, met a punk prostitute working for Charles Augustus Magnussen and paid him ten quid for a second rate blow-job after which I never fucking saw him again. That do you? That do him? If you're going to arrest every man in here whose ever picked up a whore you'll run out of policemen.”

“Come on Moran, at least come up with a more believable lie.” Porter dropped the pretense. “We’ve already been to his home, his story adds up. He’s _blind_ Moran. You could have gotten away with it, why did you have to tell him your name? Magnussen? What the fuck would Magnussen have to do with you, or a blind whore for that matter? Take off your shirt. Moriarty says his dog attacked you. If you’ve not got bites then I’m sure this can be all worked out.”

Sebastian stared at him for a few seconds wondering if he'd actually made a mistake, if Jim was some blind kid with a school sweetheart - then he remembered everything that had actually happened and snarled, grabbing his shirt and tugging it over his head, "Yes, his fucking dog bit me. He works for CAM, you know every damn lowlife in this city does, who's paying you to do this, hmm? Who have I pissed off this badly?”

Porter inspected the bite impassively. “Moran we were willing to overlook some of your more wild behavior but we can’t have sodomized kids walking into the department like this. You’re sick, that much is obvious. If you have any proof that this kid is working for Magnussen, then I’m all ears. If not, you need to turn in your identification and the keys to the car and your weapons. There will be a hearing but I wouldn’t put much hope that you’ll be able to keep your job. The fact of the matter is we can’t have a degenerate working at NSY so even if you didn’t rape him, which I’m petty convinced you did, we can’t have you here any longer.”

Sebastian had felt the anger rising, but now he pretty much just felt a dull hammering cold fury pounding somewhere inside him. Reaching over, he covered the recorder and looked up at Porter, whispering, "Just tell me who is was, alright? CAM or Holmes. Who wants me out? Because I swear to fucking god I'll blow the fuckers brains out. This isn't about who I fuck, or why. This is about something I've done that's pissed someone off so badly they want me down." Sighing he moved his hand, then threw his shirt over his shoulder, "Yeah, yeah. Your wife fools around with your cleaner, so you can talk about degenerates all you want. I'm not giving you a fucking statement or anything.”

“Leave your things at the front desk and they will be in contact with you soon until you get your hearing date. Until then you are on unpaid leave. Not everyone is working for those two bastards Moran. I’m just looking after the department. Now get out. And if I hear anything about you harassing that kid I’ll arrest you myself.”

"Don't even fucking think about it." Sebastian snarled at him, grabbing his shirt and storming out. There were a few people hovering around the front desk who scattered as he stormed up to it, tugging his keys out and dropping them down, along with his other non-personal possessions and after a thought his shirt as well. Striding out he pointed at Jim, hovering outside near some girl he didn't recognise and was pretty sure Jim didn't know either. "You - you are a complete shit, alright? Tell your boss he's fucking dead.”

Sam snarled defensively as the human who had already attacked his Jim came storming out and yelling. He was being good because his harness was on but he would bite the foolish human again if he got too close. His Jim was already hurt and smelled like injury and pain. Jim wouldn’t admit to anything in front of the NSY building but he gave a little nod, letting Sebastian know that he would tell him. It hadn’t been fun doing this today and Jim didn’t feel great about himself no matter how much of an ass the other man was.

Sebastian just glared at him, "I'm flipping you off right now, alright? And let me know which bastard did that to you and I'll stick a bullet in them as well."

With that he stormed off, watched by a slightly confused Lestrade who came forward and gently took Jim's girlfriend's arm, "Alright miss, I'm afraid you'll need to give a separate witness statement now, is that alright? We can get a lady policeman in for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: References to past child grooming, fantasy of raping a sleeping child, coercion while using a vibrator, falsified rape claim. 
> 
> ** Magnussen is gaining traction and he is creating a new branch for his crime organization in America. He wants Sebastian fired because Holmes can not be allowed to have that much power while Charles is growing his business. He tells Jim that he will go to the police station and accuse Moran of raping him, he hurts Jim to give him convincing bruises and injuries.


	6. Don't be Sad Mountain Face

         Jim’s life seemed to settle down after that, Magnussen seemed to know Jim was unhappy, that he had done something to bring offense and he… well he wasn’t nicer but he was less… whatever he usually was. He gave Jim an expensive spa treatment, which Jim both loved and hated in equal measure. The dildo was put away and hadn’t come back and Magnussen let Jim be with Paul now that he was healing up. Charles was too busy to see Jim tonight so he would be spending the evening in his own home with Paul. They’d gone out to walk Sam but as they came near the house Paul stopped his chatter and Sam started growling. Jim didn’t know exactly who was there and he grabbed onto Paul’s wrist.

Sebastian's life, on the other hand, slowly kept slipping downwards, no job, no money, thankfully he didn't get a prison sentence, but he certainly couldn't find any other employment. The day they chucked him out of the flat he wondered around London for a bit, in slow meandering circles that seemed to focus in on Jim's flat, where he hung around smoking and taking up space. He heard Sam first, growling, and sighed, putting his hands up and stepping out "Alright, alright. No need to call the fucking police. It's just me, remember? Your apparent attacker. I'm just having a smoke, s' not illegal yet.”

“I think it’s okay,” Jim whispered quietly in Paul’s ear. “Can you see any weapons?” Sebastian could be standing there with a gun to his head and Jim wouldn’t have known it. “Still hacked off, Moran?” Jim called out, hoping to at least get an idea of how close he was from his voice. “If you can be pleasant you can come inside and have a drink, we were just about to get blitzed.” And then spend the rest of the night in bed, but Moran didn’t need to know that.

"No - no weapons." Paul whispered back. "He's got his hands up." He still felt very, very suspicious of Moran and wasn't at all happy with Jim's suggestion to invite him in. He gave Seb a scowl and shook his head quickly, making an upset little noise when Sebastian stepped forward and absently patted him on the face.

"Nah... I've got over it. Getting blitzed sounds good - I've just been chucked out my house.”

“Daddy’s money didn’t save you?” Jim asked as he gave Sam the command to go forward. He took off his coat and scarf and felt along for the closet door and the hangers he kept on the left side of the cupboard. “Moran there’s treats in the ceramic jar on the counter, it’s to the right of the kitchen sink. Why don’t you bring Sam a treat and he might warm up to you.” As soon as he had his outerwear off he removed Sam’s harness and gave his scruff a few pets to get it to lie down flat because he could feel the hackles were raised. “Paul will you set everything up for smoking? I can never get it right.” Jim could feel Paul sticking close to him so Jim reached out, found his face and gave him a long kiss. “Let me know if you’re not okay, you can go sleep in my room if you need to. He’s not going to bother you after Darren.” Jim whispered.

"He's... yeah... I'm okay." Paul managed, giving Seb another scowl and relaxing a little as Jim kissed him. Sebastian gave them both a grin and sat down, flipping Sam a treat, "Cute. You two look very pretty together although I can't imagine who tops. Alright boy, it's fine. I'm not about to hurt your master - I'm not the one who fucked him up and beat him up and sent him limping into a police station." He said pointedly.

Jim raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I always top except for Charles.” And the few times Charles had pimped him out, but Sebastian already thought he was a whore, no need to mention that. He was glad that Paul was okay, Jim wanted to spent time with him. “Why don’t you sit in my lap?” Jim felt along the couch, brushing his hand along the seat and then across Sebastian’s thighs because he found a free space for him to sit. Sam wagged his tail cautiously and when he saw that his human was not afraid, he inched over to Sebastian, head low and ears back, but he sniffed his hand.

"Well who was that for, the dog, the whore, or me?" Sebastian grumbled, filing away the information about topping for further thought. In truth he'd never even considered that the short dark-haired little whore might even want to fuck anyone. Now he had a bit more to think about. Absently he offered Sam another treat, watching as Paul slid down into Jim's lap and then moved across to sit on the sofa next to him, his legs still over Jim's knees.

"So you got thrown out your house and decided to come here and bother us, is that right?" Paul asked sulkily.

Jim gave Paul’s ass a little slap as the tease slid into his lap and then away onto the furthest seat from Sebastian. “Can’t be sure of course but I’ve been close enough that I’m pretty sure if you sat in my lap you would crush me.” Sam wagged his tail a little more, every few moments checking in with his human to make sure he was okay. Sam nosed at Sebastian’s hand, looking for pets because Jim wasn’t very demonstrative with him. And the angry human seemed to be okay.

Sebastian started to stroke Sam's head as the dog relaxed, feeding him treats and smiling, "I've missed dogs." He said with a sigh, but otherwise kept quiet while Paul prepared the drugs, twisting to use the table with as much of his body still in Jim's lap as possible. Sebastian was happy to ignore them both, not really wanting to broach the subject of why Jim had had him sacked, or who had done the necessary damage.

It was Paul who broke the silence, lighting up and then placing the end of the joint near Jim's lips. "There you go Jim.”

“Well you can’t have mine. I need him and you’re spoiling him. He’ll get fat.” He didn’t make any move to stop it though, the dog could use some attention from someone who actually liked dogs. Jim could smell the weed close to his face and he leaned forward until his lips brushed the joint and he could wrap them around it and take a long drag. He pulled away and sucked in short staccato bursts of air as he let the smoke sit in his lungs before blowing the smoke away from where he thought Sam was.

"He won't get fat, we'll go running together, yeah?" Sebastian stroked Sam's fur fondly, "Five miles every day before breakfast, help us both tone up." Sighing he leant back and then looked at Paul, "Do I get one? It's been a while since I had a joint, usually I just go out and get ratarsed but booze is a bit expensive when you've got no money.”

“No you certainly will not! He’ll be exhausted all day and too tired to work.” Jim scowled, bizarrely feeling a little jealous of his dog’s attention. He’d never met anyone who gave a rat’s about Sam, usually they just thought of him as a tool or something, because he was a working dog. “Worried about your figure Moran?” Jim gestured to Paul that he should pass the blunt to Sebastian. “You know I have a pipe around here someone where. I think it’s in my bedroom on top of the dresser Paul if you’d rather use that after we finish this one.” He rolled his eyes when Moran said it was too expensive to get booze. “Ah-ha. Now the truth comes out. So that’s why you showed up here.”

"I have to move?" Paul whined, taking the blunt and inhaling before sulkily handing it over to Sebastian, snatching his hand back as if it would get burnt, "Alright, you can have it, but I'm _Jim's_ remember, not yours." Sebastian laughed at that, inhaling and leaning back, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. "Don't you worry - you look far too high maintenance for me - always whining about how you don't get fucked, and you get fucked too much, and nasty men keep hurting you." He shrugged at Jim's question, "Yep. That's why. Bailiffs kicked me out my house and I had nowhere to go. I've been wondering around London looking for a comfortable looking bridge to sleep under then I remembered one of Mags's flunkies owed me a favour. So I came here.”

“You want to bounce me off the walls? Would that make you feel better?” He wasn’t really sure that he owed Sebastian anything. “I was just doing as I was told, and I didn’t get shit for doing it. You were the one who wanted to play with the big boys and took too much of the pie. It’s not my fault you overstepped yourself, Icarus. If you have to know it wasn’t my idea.” Jim grinned and reached out for Paul, hovering over him and bending down to kiss at his neck. “Oh you’re mine hmmm? I don’t remember agreeing to that.” His tone was teasing and he gave him a little scrape of teeth before sitting back up and reaching for the weed.

"What, no. I just figured the least you owed me was a night on your floor." Sebastian sighed, looking at Jim and then shaking his head, remembering to repeat the word again, "No. Look, you get mistreated plenty. If I wanted to make sure you kept getting mistreated keeping you employed by Magnussen's got to be my best bet." He raised his eyes at the mention of Icarus, "How does a scrap like you get a classics education?"

Paul sat back in Jim's lap, wriggling his bottom against Jim and giggling a little, "Oh but you _like_ it when I'm yours.”

“Don’t be a shit,” Jim chided him. “That kind of thing is rare, and it wasn’t personal. And fuck it, I liked it, I’m not being _mistreated.”_ Sebastian should have met him before he became Charles’. There wasn’t a time where he wasn’t walking around with bruises, the only times he hadn’t was the rare times Charles took him in while his father was on assignment in another part of the world. Jim remembered those times fondly because Charles spoiled him rotten when he had the time to. Eventually he’d moved from having his own bedroom to sharing a bed with him. Jim knew Paul when he was still a teenager, before he moved up. That was part of why they were friends. “I don’t have a classics education, Charles just likes to tell me that story when I’m getting too bossy with him.” Jim laughed quietly and reached around Paul to pinch his thigh as he wiggled around in his lap. “Tease. Just wait till later. Moran you can sleep on the couch, one night, and if Charles finds out I’m going to be very sore at you.”

"Well I won't tell him if you won't." Sebastian handed the joint back to Paul as the boy waved for it, he was starting to relax a little with the weed and given that Moran didn't seem about to hurt him, or even want to touch him. Paul decided he could live with that. "You are being mistreated, of course you are." Sebastian murmured, "Everyone who works for CAM is, you've just spent your whole life in it and you don't know what normal is anymore." He raised his eyes as Jim teased Paul, "Oh? Later? Do I get to watch later?”

Sebastian was really killing his buzz. “No, I’m really really not. He never does anything I don’t want him to, I was the one that suggested the bruising on my face… Darren did that for me actually.” Jim reached up to lightly brush his fingers against the fading bruise around his eye. He remembered it might not be best to mention Darren so he changed the subject. “Look, I’m very very happy so what does it matter if I don’t know what normal is? You were born with a silver spoon down your throat, and you’re unhappy so there you go. One of us is rich and the other isn’t, and here’s a hint — you’re the poor homeless one.” Jim scowled at Moran as Paul fed him the blunt again. “Why don’t you go get my pipe? This is getting low. And no Moran, you can’t _watch._ We’ll try to keep the noise down. If you jerk off and get semen on my couch I’m going to be very upset that you’ve destroyed more of my furniture.”

Sebastian looked at him for a moment and then shrugged. "Whatever. I can't explain water to a fish. He's groomed you, and he's groomed you well but yeah, if you're happy why not. Why the hell not. Where's the pipe, I'll go get it. And yeah I'm unhappy and living in poverty on a whore's sofa but I can cum without the permission of some lecherous old pervert and that, my friend, it true freedom. Also where's your bog I need a slash.”

Jim didn’t like Sebastian talking to him like that. He didn’t understand the situation. Charles was the only person who was decent to him all growing up, they weren’t quite equals but then no one was Charles’ equal. “It’s on top of the dresser in my bedroom. Don’t touch anything else in there, I need everything to be where it is so I don’t hurt myself. It’s down the hall.”

Sebastian nodded and headed off. Paul waited until he was gone and then whispered to Jim, "He's... okay. Still scary though. But he's not doing much - relaxing, lying there, not looking threatening at all."

Sebastian headed to the toilet, then went back via Jim's bedroom, nosing around a little but obediently not touching anything before coming back with the pipe. "Here we go.”

“He’s not terrible.” Jim agreed before Sebastian came back. “Has it been too long or do you think you can set it up?” He said when he heard Sebastian’s voice and footsteps. “So I’m guessing you got dumped by Holmes now that you can’t get him information? What do you think you’ll do now?”

Sebastian shrugged, "Fuck knows. I might be a dead man walking, I might just get a slap on the wrist. I've had a few people coming for me and trying to get even, but they've been mostly working alone, and I've seen them off. None of the big boys yet." He picked up the pipe and started to construct it, watched by a fascinated and getting-higher Paul. "As for what I'll do - not a fucking clue. Private security maybe? I'll probably have to move, nobody in London'll hire me, that's for certain. Maybe I could move back to the country and try and make up with dear old dad, although I doubt it.”

Jim bit at his lip a little. He knew that this hadn’t been his decision but pinning something so vile on him, when Moran — sort of — hadn’t really done it wasn’t the best feeling. It really would kill his prospects. “You should go back to women, they won’t get you in as much trouble.” Jim stroked at Paul’s skin, under his shirt and he sneakily stuck his hand down the back of his pants. “Maybe Mags would take you on full time. You wouldn’t have to move anyway. You know he pays well.”

Paul jumped and squirmed and gave a happy little squeal as Jim's hand slid down over the curve of his arse while Sebastian watched, a little envious, a lot amused and a bit aroused at the two of them playing so calmly. "Go back to women - well yeah that would be the dad option wouldn't it? Marry the bitch, pump some babies into her, retire on the estate - poor little rich boy." He took another suck on the pipe and gestured at Paul. "Look at him though, all blond and hot and pretty with a hot little arse. You expect me to say never again to that sort of thing?" He scowled, "I'm not working for CAM. Not after that stunt he pulled losing me my job." He didn't blame Jim for that anymore. It had been CAMs decision, he knew, and Jim could hardly disobey.

Jim gave his arse a pinch and then rubbed his hand over the skin. “I didn’t say get married. You know there are some women who aren’t interested in having babies and would be very interested in that money. Just marry a hot one and fuck her when you want and while you’re sending her on those trips to Paris you can fuck the pool boy in the shed. Who says you can’t have everything? If you ever get the chance you should try that one that was playing my girlfriend. Very symmetrical features, soft skin. She smells nice. Blond and hot and pretty, and I heard she’s into anal too. Don’t act like your life is over, you were already half way out the door before you ever got in contact with Magnussen.”

"If I don't get married that money isn't mine." Sebastian said grimly, lighting up the pipe and leaning back with it, smirking at the noises Paul was making. "Pool boy in the shed sounds like an excellent plan - I could marry her, buy her two massive houses, one in America, one in France, then tell her to live between them and spend whatever she wants. She wouldn't even have to be hot." He wrinkled his nose at the thought of Jim's girlfriend. "Not sure I have any need to lie with another of CAMs whores - especially a female one - no matter how much she likes getting her arse poked.”

“Oh come on. You must like girls a little bit. I heard her tits are fantastic. She does work on the side too, Charles has enough people that working for him doesn’t always pay the bills. She works at a gentleman’s club from what she told me. And sure, scam your father out of the money, I know you could find a desperate broad willing to live in your fancy houses for free. Just tell your father she’s sterile after a few years when she doesn’t pop out a kid. You shouldn’t always be so straightforward when you come at a problem.”

Sebastian looked at him for a moment and then spluttered into a laugh, handing the pipe to Paul and patting his inner thigh as he did so. "Oh god, you really don't understand. Do you even know what it's like, the world I live in? He wants kids, ideally a son, a Moran. So I can't marry any 'broad' it has to be a posh rich one from the right family. And she very much has to have kids. And I really, really, don't want to anally violate your little female friend, although thank you for offering.”

“I didn’t say anything about violating. I should have known you wouldn’t know how to treat her, maybe it’s best you don’t marry a rich bitch then. Although I’d have a very hard time saying no to that money. Who cares, was your da around a lot when you were growing up? Rich people aren’t expected to raise their kids, just stick your junk in someone, wiggle it around, and take all that money.” For Jim, who had grown up without very much at all, it didn’t seem like a complicated or difficult thing.

"Course he was around - I mean I had a nanny and went to boarding school but I still saw him plenty - what is this a fucking therapy session?" Sebastian grumbled, and then pointed at Jim, forgetting momentarily that he couldn't see, "Because if we're talking about dads, I think you might be on shaky territory there, yeah? So let’s just shut up and get baked.”

“You don’t know anything about my da except what you read in the newspapers.” Jim stuck his tongue out at him and reached out with an open hand to signal he wanted the pipe. While he was waiting he got to kissing on Paul’s neck and biting his ear. “Weed always gets me so randy. Did you bring anything else?”

Paul giggled and squirmed on his lap and Seb bit back a sigh watching the two of them, his own horniness increasing. Suddenly even the thought of a girl didn't seem too bad. "Yeah..." Paul giggled, tugging a little plastic back out of the back of his jeans and waving it at Jim before pressing it into his hand, "Acid. Want me to give you one?”

Jim nodded eagerly, he had always wanted to try it but Mags didn’t like him taking hallucinogens. He was busy with work though and Jim probably wouldn’t see him for a couple of days. He stuck his tongue out obediently and he tasted the sugar cube melt on his tongue. “Moran, you don’t get one. Someone needs to be mostly sober. And I’ll cut off your cock if you try to have sex with us while we are out of it.” Jim settled back, closing his eyes and waiting for the drug to kick in.

"What if you jump on me and beg for it?" Moran grumbled, but nodded, he wasn't sure he'd be happy taking them high anyway. He'd fucked drunk kids before and they were boring- all dull and stupid and responding wrongly. He shook his head as Paul stuck a tab on his tongue, "Naughty naught boys. You should get your hides tanned for trying stunts like this." Paul settled down in Jim's lap, closing his eyes and waiting to see what would happen this time while Sebastian hauled himself up to get another drink.

“Unlikely.” Was all that Jim said, although that answer came more reluctantly. He didn’t know very much about LSD, not anything for sure, mostly Jim knew it made sighted people see things. Jim let his held tilt back and rest against the back of the couch as Paul settled in his lap. That felt really good, having someone soft in his lap. Jim started to feel a little hot under the collar and then it was like — he lost track of time. But there was music playing, an orchestra. “Where the fuck did you get this record?” He voiced to either Paul or Sebastian, whatever weirdo brought the damn thing.

Paul was in a world of his own, giggling and waving hands above his head. Sebastian smirked as Jim started talking, his voice moving slow and strange, like his tongue wasn’t sure how fast it should be going. "No record." He answered, not wanting Jim to feel alone, although with Paul hot and heavy in his lap it was unlikely, "Just you hitting the ceiling.”

“…huh.” Was what Jim settled on, finally. He wanted to say more — that this was the first concert that Magnussen had taken him to, shortly after he’d lost his sight. They’d been many more times together but this was the first one. Jim wanted to say that but he was so closed off and projecting strength and awareness of his surroundings was so engrained that admitting he was hearing things that weren’t there was too difficult for him. Paul was hot in his lap and Jim shifted a little on the couch underneath him. “M’not hitting the ceiling. It was a perfectly reasonable assumption.”

Paul’s eyes were wide and panting, whatever he was seeing was clearly far preferable than his actually life. Sebastian shook his head with a grin, "It was a fine assumption. You go ahead and enjoy your concert. I'll be here when the music stops." He sighed at the two of them, coming over and gently petting Paul in the safe knowledge that Jim couldn't see and Paul didn't care.

Jim sort of got lost in his head for a bit, he didn’t know how long the music went on for but by now it had been about ninety minutes since his trip started. He came back to himself for a moment of clarity. It was too hot. “You need to open a window.” It was near winter but Jim was suddenly adamant about that. They were going to burn up. His cock was a little hard and Paul — Paul was here? He wasn’t in his lap. Was Jim alone? “Hello?” 

It was wrong and it was evil but Paul was very hot and sweet and incredibly tempting now he was giggling and not scared. Sebastian had gently lifted him off Jim, turned him over and was now happily squeezing, rubbing and fingering his arse over the back of the sofa while Paul giggled and squirmed and described all the pretty patterns to him. He grinned as Jim spoke, coming over and gently petting the back of his head. "It's too cold for opening windows, take your jacket off. We're both here, it's fine.”

Now that someone spoke to him and grabbed his attention it was like the sound got turned back on and Jim could hear Paul giggling… behind him?” Jim reached up across the back of the couch and found Paul’s bare leg, his fingertips trailed up to find that Paul’s trousers were down and his arse was presented over the back of the couch. Jim suddenly felt intensely sick and he stood on shaky legs, shoving Sebastian out of the way when he bumped into him. “No. No.” Was all he could manage, despite the conviction behind them. “Paul come’on.” Jim helped get his trousers up and helped him back towards his bedroom. “You have to lock the door behind you, okay?”

"Hey - hey it's fine, I didn't ..." Sebastian tried helplessly as Paul made an attempt at standing up - severely hampered by a clear belief that the floor was in fact the ceiling and that he could fly. A second attempt had him trying to open the wall and Sebastian sighed, gently wrapping an arm around Jim to help support him, and another around Paul. "He was fine, alright? Now you want me to lock you in your room I can." he gave Paul's bottom a little pat while he still could. "But you might want someone to keep an eye on you both who's sober."

Jim hesitated outside the door, with Paul sort of struggling in his arms and Sebastian right behind them. It didn’t seem like a good idea to leave Paul alone right now. “Don’t touch him. I will really hurt you. Darren will be like a wet dream.” Jim was so hot. He took off the leather jacket and threw it into his room. The turtleneck went next. That was better. That felt nice. Jim was still a little hard and he had to remind himself that others were present and he shouldn’t touch himself. “I’m so thirsty.” Jim gasped desperately, lost in his own home and unsure of where the kitchen or his glasses or the sink was, if any of it still existed.

Sebastian raised his eyebrows as Jim threw his jacket and shirt into the fireplace, still grabbing Paul and standing in the middle of the lounge. "Oh for. Sit on the sofa. Keep hold of Paul before he flies off. I'm not going to ravish him, I was just having a bit of fun." He patted Paul on last time, "I'm going to get you a drink, and him as well, you'll dehydrate otherwise.”

Jim didn’t know where his sofa was anymore so he settled for plopping down on the floor right where he was. “You don’t get to have fun.” That was supposed to just be a thought but Jim ended up saying it out loud, shouted it really. It was still too hot. He tugged off his trousers and sat there in his loose fitting boxers. Paul was there, near him, and Jim wanted him so badly, wanted something good and soft but fierce with _him_ in control. Paul was still standing so Jim knelt in front of him, completely forgetting about the water or Sebastian, and he tugged Paul’s trousers down again so that he could mouth at his cock through his boxers. It didn’t occur to him to ask, in his mind this was okay because Paul wanted him but he didn’t want Sebastian so that wasn’t good.

"Hey... what?" Sebastian gave a laugh of shock as Jim shouted at him for touching Paul and then proceeded to basically give Paul a blowjob as he stood there making swimming motions with his arms and gasping at the furniture all changing shape. "Hey..." reaching over he tugged Paul’s boxers down then gave him a hard slap on the arse, "Swim back to the sofa and stop being a flirt." He growled as Paul turned obediently, tripped over his trousers and ended up on top of Jim's jacket in the fireplace. Kneeling down Sebastian gently put hands on Jims' shoulders, "Calm down. He's fine. You're fine.”

“I don’t know where I am.” Jim whispered as his trip took a bad turn. He started thinking too much, thinking about shit with Magnussen and Sebastian and poor Paul and Jim whined low in his throat. “I’m a whore? It’s a relationship. He doesn’t have sex with anyone but me. I’m not a whore, that was only a few times. Stop saying that shit.” Jim reached out for anything — anything to ground him because he felt like he was floating in the dark. Doing LSD without vision was sort of terrifying, or it increased the quiet and insidious fears that Jim already had about living in the dark. His hand found Sebastian’s thigh and he rubbed over it a few times. “I want to feel good.”

"Shhhh it's okay." Sebastian tugged Jim into his lap, hugging him and suddenly feeling very crap for all the times he'd called the kid a whore. Jim was damaged and in distress and trapped in a horrible situation that he couldn’t even see. Gently, Sebastian stroked his hair, "You'll be fine, yeah? I'm here, we're in your house, in the lounge, and you're attached to me and I'm not moving." Paul started humming from the fireplace, ash getting into his hair as he squirmed around half naked.

Jim crawled happily into Sebastian’s lap, he was hot too. He had the strangest sensation of not knowing exactly how old he was, but he felt younger — lighter or less repressed. “That feels good.” He breathed into Sebastian’s ear as he rested his head on the man’s shoulder. He reached a hand up and started to carefully run his fingertips over Sebastian’s face, “Why are you sad?” He asked, focusing on the wrinkle in between his brows and the downward pucker of his lips. “Don’t be sad.” Jim pressed his mouth against the wrinkle in between his eyes and the corners of his mouth. “Is that better?”

"I'm not sad, I'm just penniless, homeless and about to get my kneecaps broken." Sebastian sighed, managing a small smile as Jim started to kiss him, "Ohhhh don't do this. You'll kill me when you sober us. I don't want to die, specially not from you." He kept holding Jim in his lap though, hands rubbing over his back, pleased the other was appearing a little more grounded.

“That means you are sad. I’ve been there, it’s sad.” He had been, before Magnussen took him in. Happiness and power and security, all for the small price of his soul. He wasn’t sure how much of that was only said in his head. “Do you want me to stop?” Jim asked, breathing Sebastian’s air from his mouth. “But I’m so randy…” That was more of a whine than anything, he felt so hot, and Sebastian skin was soft and his muscles were like bones and his bones were like mountains. “Mountain face.” Jim whispered as he used both hands to feel across the other man’s features. “It’s okay mountain face. We are just individual stars in the universe, floating in the dark in the orbit of bigger stars.” Jim kissed him on the mouth properly this time, holding his little mountain face in place. “You want me.”

"You have to stop..." Sebastian breathed back. It was killing him not to just tug this pretty thing’s trousers down and fulfil him right there and then, but he knew Jim would never speak to him again if he did. He gave a final longing look to where Paul was trying to swim through the fireplace and then opened his mouth for a kiss, drawing back as it finished. "Yes I want you. But I can't have you. Not you. Not now. Not like this. I want you to want me, for longer, much longer, and if I do this now you won’t."

“Just don’t tell anyone,” Jim breathed back. “I’m not supposed to want you.” Suddenly his feelings made so much more sense in perspective, he had felt a sexual attraction but it was very base and didn’t go beyond that. “But why shouldn’t that be explored?” Jim asked, forgetting to voice the first part of his statement. “I’ll still want you. I still want you after being in the back seat and I still want you even though Charles doesn’t like you. Why do you want me?” That was confusing to Jim, Sebastian was muscled and his skin was surprisingly soft, he was strong and he could protect or pin him down, both ideas were exciting. But wanting for longer? Why? “If you had a choice between having a thing you want once and never having it, wouldn’t you choose to take it? We are so small and our time is so short, why would you waste opportunity when it falls into your lap?” Jim giggled and squirmed in his lap, pleased with the literal twist to his metaphor.

"You're bloody small, small and annoying." Sebastian grumbled, trying to make sense of Jim's words. "Also high, and off your face and probably imagining I look like James Dean." He stroked Jim's hair and shook his head. "Why wait for longer? Because there's a chance. Bloody small chance, true, but it's there, and I'm not about to kill it now. I'm not just a randy copper with no impulse control and a thing for pretty men. I mean, I am _mostly_ but I do have other bloody things inside me as well. They'll shortly be outside me when Holmes catches up.”

“I’m not small!” Jim stood up out of Sebastian’s lap, tugging down his trousers to show him. He wasn’t small, even if he wasn’t Sebastian’s size. _“I_ want to be inside you. I’ll make you feel good.” Jim promised as he settled back down and pushed his hands against Sebastian shoulders so he would lie down on his back. One hand went under the man’s shirt to touch his chest hair and the other struggled with his belt. Jim’s movements weren’t agitated or jerky, they were confident and languid, maybe a touch slower than usual. “I’m not high. I’m aware, and I know that if I don’t get to have sex right now just because you’ve picked this moment, when the world is going to shit, to have morals, I will be very unhappy.” Jim would understand later, after he had sobered up. Sebastian had tried.

"I... wait you inside..." Sebastian groaned as he was pushed back, after images of Jim's cock flickering in his mind, "Unh... I suppose... fuck. Don't... don't make it hurt too much." He flushed, realising he sounded like a stupid kid. "Please, please, forget this ever happened when you sober up. Refusing sex then letting you plough me? I'll never live it down.”

Jim was really shocked when Sebastian finally caved and agreed to have sex with him, it left happy little earth quakes that made the air around his head tremble. “Unhh, yes, I want to. There’s just one problem.” Jim gave his cock a few strokes. “I don’t — I don’t think I can get hard enough. Paul told me. You can’t get a good erection going but everything feels fu - fucking ahhh… amazing.” Damn it. Just using his own hand felt as good as a blow job. “I can’t fuck you but I want you…” Jim whined in frustration but he took full advantage of their positions to hold Sebastian down, pressing him into the floor and sticking his hands down his trousers.

Sebastian gasped, eyes rolling up. He was that close to suggesting he give Jim a blow-job, but his pride was still holding him back. He might no longer be a cop, but he'd fallen pretty far in the last few days, and falling to the level of giving punks blowjobs wasn't quite where he wanted to be. He moaned as Jim's hands met his cock, half hard from playing with Paul, "Y-you'll come down eventually…" He gasped, "You can fuck me then aahh…"

Jim felt Sebastian’s noises in his bones and he wanted to devour those noises, swallow them down, so he kissed them. No one else got to have the noises. He wasn’t sure about wanting to fuck Sebastian later. Jim wanted it now, very much, but what happened when he came down and went back to being small minded? When threats and dangers and logic took over again? He didn’t want to say anything and ruin his mood. “There’s lube somewhere. In my jacket? No trousers.” Those were within reach, he thought, but Jim’s hands were currently invested in discovering Sebastian’s body. “I will put my fingers in you.”

"Oh fuck..." Sebastian rolled sideways, gently lifting Paul away from the fireplace and patting his head absently, covering his semi naked body with Jim's jacket before rooting around in Jim's trousers for the lube. When he'd got it, he threw it at Jim then put his arm over his eyes, "Just... yeah. Do it. Before I change my mind and realise what a fucking stupid idea this is. And just be thankful our only witness has just fallen off the edge of the floor. Heh." He gasped at the feel of cold lube, his feet twitching, "Fucking hell. Fuck. Yes. Do it.”

“I will only do things you like…” Jim promised as he spread some cold lube around on his fingers. He got lost for a moment in the texture but his horniness won out over that and he quickly regrouped. Clumsily he rearranged his limbs and his body so that his arse was closer to Sebastian’s head and he handed him the bottle again. “Bend your knees. I’m going to do you and I want you to do me at the same time.” Sort of like a sixty-nine but fingering instead of oral. Just because he couldn’t get proper blood flow down there didn’t mean everything wasn’t feeling fucking amazing. He twirled a single finger around Sebastian’s arse and then pushed it in when he got permission, giving him a moment to adjust and then working the finger in and out.

Sebastian watched Jim wriggle his fingers in the lube for a bit and then raised an eyebrow as an arse was suddenly in his face, giving it an experimental slap. "Bossy little fuck, aren't you?" And then, given it was close enough, he did what he'd been fantasising about and leant forward and up to take Jim's soft little cock into his mouth, sucking it gently and moaning around it while, pleased that it muffled his squeak as Jim's finger shoved inside him.

“I’m not bossy, I’m the boss.” Jim quipped back, knowing it was true. There was no one in the whole world who told him what to do except Charles. Jim wiggled his arse back invitingly as Sebastian gave it a slap. This man was arse mad. He shuddered and stopped, letting out a choked guttural sound of pleasure as Sebastian started to unexpectedly suck on his cock. Even only half hard it felt _amazing_ like the best sex of his life. He remembered to keep moving his finger around and he added a second one as he used his other hand to stroke Sebastian’s cock. “Want you to bend me over the couch and fuck me.” Jim groaned. That was different, sober he wouldn’t let anyone into his arse except Charles.

Sebastian gave a grin around Jims cock, moaning as the finger slid into his arse and sliding his legs obediently apart. he wished he was drunk, or high, or getting attacked as he had been with Darren, anything to provide a barrier for what he was agreeing to do, for the fact that he was here with his legs apart _like a slut_ \- raged his father’s voice in his ear, letting himself be penetrated, letting himself be taken. He flushed hard, closing his eyes and concentrating on sucking and poking his tongue at the little soft cock in his mouth, pleased at least he was spared from having to say words as the second finger pressed him open further.

Jim’s mouth was free and available and took the opportunity to unashamedly make as much noise as he was inspired to. Sebastian managed to inspire quite a lot of noise, and Jim suspected that had quite a lot to do with the drugs. Jim stretched Sebastian and worked his prostate. He remembered hearing that he came with Darren, or he was hard at least, so prostate stimulation probably wasn’t completely new to him. “Thank you thank you fuck your mouth feels so good.” His technique wasn’t great but this was probably the first time he’d had a cock in his mouth and Jim was used to Paul who was properly trained.

Sebastian arched and moaned, keeping his feet planted on the floor as Jim did something amazing to his insides, still uncertain and vulnerable, but Jim's gabbled praise stopped him from freaking out and he continued to suck and lick, one hand starting to rub and squeeze at Jim's bottom. Paul gave a little dizzy whimper, starting to come down a bit rolling over and staring at them both, wide-eyed, blinking and not sure whether he was still high or not.

Jim continued to stroke his cock and he still had that urge to have this cock inside of him. He was — big and Sebastian was young and fresh and even though he was still plenty older than Jim, he was still closer in age than Charles. “I want to experience you.” Jim gasped, hardly knowing what he meant. He added a third finger and went more forcefully after that, less gentle and exploring and more dominating. Jim rocked his cock into Sebastian’s mouth. He didn’t notice Paul because he couldn’t see and his other senses were very thrown. Suddenly Jim gasped and he started to cry quietly, shaking all over, eyes wide open and he didn’t notice the tears on his face. A conflicted noise escaped his throat and he almost whimpered. Sam raised his head in concern from his dog bed in the corner.

Sebastian flushed as Jim spoke, gasping and moaning and then pausing as he heard muffled sobs, the last thing he expected to hear. Hurriedly, he sat up and gently tugged Jim into his lap again, hard cock and all, "Shhh... kid... what is it? You alright?" Paul stared at them, and then tilted his head sideways as the floor moved upwards, eventually falling over sideways, head on the floor as things swirled around him.

“It’s — oh god. There’s color.” Jim tried to explain as he gripped hard to Sebastian’s shoulders. He closed his eyes and they didn’t go away, spinning colors and geometric shapes. Like how he remembered looking into a kaleidoscope as a child. Jim couldn’t even feel embarrassed by his tears, it was so incredible and something he never thought he would get to experience again, but because he had been sighted before his mind could produce visual hallucinations under the influence of the drugs. “They are so beautiful….”

Sebastian hesitated, whimpering a little at his ignored cock but this was something far more important, something so wonderful for Jim. He gave a smile, holding Jim and trying to will his cock back down so he didn't interrupt the moment with horniness. Gently, he stroked Jim's shoulders, "Yup, that's what they look like kid, enjoying them?”

Jim whimpered as the colors seemed to fade and began to spiral away. “You made the color. Keep touching me.” He thought maybe it was a response to arousal. Jim felt around for his cock and started to stroke him, incentivize him and keep him hard. He didn’t want to lose it so soon after it had happened. Jim wouldn’t think about what would happen when his high wore off. He wrapped his free arm around Sebastian’s shoulders and pulled their chests together. “Fuck me. I know you want to.” Jim stroked him and squeezed, rubbing a thumb over the slit. “I fantasized about your body,” Jim said honestly. “I’ll help you with your situation, whatever you want. Just make me feel good enough to bring the colors back.” In his mind Jim had figured it out, he wanted Sebastian, and the colors were tied into that. He fumbled round for the lube, not able to find it with his fingertips.

"Shhh... keep waiting for the colours..." Sebastian murmured, sighing as he picked up the lube and spread it on his fingers. He was hard now, hard and aching - miserable because after screwing himself up for it the promise of getting fucked had faded and also because he was now going to fuck Jim, and that meant Jim would never speak to him again. Gently he started kissing over Jim's face and neck murmuring, "Fuck sorry... you're out of it... but you're hot, and I want you, and I'm hard..." His fingers slid lubed and ready between Jim's ass cheeks and then slid right up inside him, pressing and poking.

“Don’t be sad mountain face. I have perspective. I won’t hate you.” Jim pressed close to him, wanting the man to be more excited about giving him what he wanted. “I will fuck you anytime you want. You get a freebie muscle man. You’ll love it.” Jim moaned loudly, probably a little too close to Sebastian’s ear. He smelled like man and that delicious slightly sweaty smell that made Jim want to run his tongue over his body. So he did. Jim used his fingertips to find a nipple and then flicked at it with his tongue. “You are the most disappointed man to ever fuck me. Paul could be more excited and he hates topping.” Jim squirmed around and gasped as Sebastian filled him up with his fingers and the color red came back for him with the discomfort and excitement. “Keep doing that. Fuck me hard.” Jim kissed his eye lids and then his lips. “I want to take everything you can give, break you into pieces and then remake you. I’m going to ruin you.” Jim promised. Sebastian would never be able to enjoy being with another person.

"Of course I'm excited to fuck you..." Sebastian rumbled, managing a little laugh at the thought and then deciding to fuck his recently acquired morals. Two fingers slid up inside Jim, watching him gasp at the colours, while his other hand pinched and rubbed his arse, sliding over skin, trying to turn him on in as many ways as possible now that sight wasn't an option. "If you kill me for this..." he murmured gently, sucking on Jim's earlobe, "Fuck me first. Want to see how it feels.”

Jim grinned as Sebastian’s voice rumbled and echoed around in his chest and Jim could feel the vibrations under his fingertips and little burst of burnt orange fireworks behind his eyes. He bit down on the man’s nipple, trying to incite him to play rough with him. The pinch felt good, his fingers felt good, but Jim wanted to be ravished all over the floor. “I don’t remember you being such a pussy about this when you held my head down in the back seat of your car. Why are you holding back? Is it because I can’t see?” Jim thought that was part of it. He let his hand quickly trace up Sebastian’s neck to his face and then Jim’s hand cracked down on his cheek, twice. “Now fight me. I’m not going to kill you Moran, not when I could just wait for Mycroft or Charles to do it for me. Your dance card is full, I think you are the prettiest girl at the dance.”

Sebastian gave a yelp as Jim bit down on his nipple, but his confusion was nothing to how he felt as Jim's hand cracked across his cheek. For a moment he almost dropped the boy in shock, his cock jumping up hard and eager against the back of Jim's leg as he tried to work out what had just happened in the world and why parts of it appeared to have significantly rearranged - namely how much he wanted Jim to slap him again. "GUh. Wha- fuck..." he managed and then a low growl as he tore the boxers off Jim's body and thrust him down into the floor, grabbing at his hips and arching over him to bite the back of his neck, "Don't you dare do that again," he rumbled low and growling, "Don't you dare even fucking think about slapping me again unless you're happy to play with fire because I will fucking _burn_ you..." his cock lined up, lubed and ready in front of the semi-stretched ass and he plunged two fingers in it again, shoving them hard against Jim's prostate. "I might be down in fucking hell tomorrow, and I'm damn well taking you with me.”

Jim grinned fiercely as he felt Sebastian’s cock jump against his thigh, how hard he got in response and how much more ruthlessness he was able to get out of him. He slapped him again and that seemed to shock Sebastian out of his stupor because the next thing he knew he was on his knees on the hardwood floor with his face pressed against the ground and his boxers twisted around one ankle. Sebastian bit the back of Jim’s neck, it was very animalistic and hot. “Burn me?” Jim kicked back at him since his hands weren’t able to reach for a slap. “Ahhmmm, Mmmm.” Jim moaned loudly with his mouth half smeared across the floor as Sebastian worked his fingers in and out of him. “Try to fucking take me.”

Sebastian knocked a fist gently into the side of Jim's head, just a warning knock, not a punch and then grabbed Jim's arse with both hands and plunged himself forward, gasping and moaning. He closed his eyes, momentarily seeing his own streaks of colour in the darkness as his cock thrust the whole length inside Jim and as he paused, just for a moment, to get his breath back before he started thrusting hard, "So... fucking... unfair. You know what I want to do to you, fuck you all up all over the floor, and half the time you'll fucking hate me for doing it, and then you go and fucking _slap_ me and you _still_ haven't fucked me..." it all came out in a confused whining jumble, slightly at odds with the hot rough buggery his body was busy carrying out.

Jim made a little warning noise as Sebastian smacked his head but then that cock he had been fantasizing about was filling him up, spreading him wide with too little prep in the most delicious way possible. It was like the dildo but not cold and impersonal and used expressly because Jim didn’t want it. Jim couldn’t hear Sebastian’s noises under the volume of his own, every sound he made was a new color, some on a spectrum he had never seen before and Jim cried out, face still held down and pressed against the floor while Sebastian thrust into him roughly. “You are a very confused and repressed man.” Jim quipped, sounding like Magnussen for a moment.

Sebastian grabbed at his hair, yanking it back with a growl of "Shut up..." Jim probably had a point, but thinking and overthinking was far removed from what he wanted to do at the moment. Now he was just living viciously and hard, with the burning fade of the slaps on his cheek that somehow felt like a mark of ownership, even as Jim was in a tangled heap below him. He thrust hard, not stopping, his breath panting and raw as he reached below to grab Jim's cock, yanking it hard and squeezing too tight.

“Ahh—nhggg… harder.” Sebastian hadn’t found Jim’s limit yet and he wanted to be pushed right to that line and then over the edge. His face was off the floor now and Jim had to support himself with his hands while his hair was pulled hard. There were a few short moments during sex, in the after, when you were still being thrust into as you rode out your orgasm. A little too close and a little too much sensation, but fucking through the orgasm and not stopping was what made it. Jim felt suspended in that moment, like the acid was giving him an unending orgasm even if he couldn’t get fully hard, Jim was pretty fucking close despite the chemicals in his system. He made short little staccato moans each time Sebastian pressed into him, each time his prostate was stimulated. The colors burst in short little fireworks and he watched them in wonder. “You’re still holding back.” Jim taunted him with a smile, drawing out his words teasingly.

"Jesus you're demanding." Sebastian growls, but he's pleased that Jim is asking for more, that he isn't overwhelming the young man because he still has plenty left to give. With a roar he digs his nails into Jim's sides and just goes for it - forgetting he's fucking a blind employee of Magnussen's who's almost half a whore and most likely a honey trap he just takes what he wants, takes it hard, ramming inside the tight little entrance and moaning. Paul flashes past a moment of clarity and his eyes widen, curling up protectively in case he's next and waiting for the funny shapes in his mind to come back. Sebastian doesn't notice, just focuses on Jim and how hard he can assault his prostate, how often he can slam inside him, and how much of that tender sweet little skin his hands can move over, caressing and scratching, moving around to yank hard at tight little nipples.

This _this_ is what he’s been wanting. What he’s been craving. Charles can hurt him but it’s a quiet and calculated and suspenseful thing. He can imagine the man sneering if he knew how much Jim was into this, how hard he could get if there weren’t so many chemicals in his brain and in his body. The fact was that Charles probably didn’t have the energy, the physical strength to use Jim like this. He didn’t need to. His bonds were psychological and in his words. This was a new thing all together and Jim was happy to lose himself in this. He moaned loudly, almost sobbing with how good everything felt with the drugs and the colors he could see for the first time in years. Jim’s hands scrabbled on the floor and his nails scratched at the wood, trying to find something to anchor himself to. His vision went white for a second, the colors gone for that moment as an orgasm hit. It felt like one anyway, he wasn’t able to ejaculate but Jim’s heart rate picked up, his body tensed and shook and tightened around Sebastian’s cock. He went sort of limp as the feeling stretched on and plateaued at that peak. “Don’t stop.” Jim gasped, his voice hoarse and rough from all the noise he’d been making.

It would have been almost impossible for Sebastian to stop at that moment, but as soon as he heard Jim's voice he knew, instantly and terribly, that if there hadn't been a 'don't' at the beginning he would've brought himself to a shuddering halt. As it was, with the permission he was more than happy to keep going, bending down over Jim, not holding him in place now just hammering tough muscular hips into his backside repeatedly while one hand tugged and abused the soft semi-hard little cock and the other started rigorously on Jim's other nipple. He bit and growled, worrying at the back of Jim's neck, not even thinking anymore just letting himself do what he wanted to do with this insolent irritating little scrap who'd somehow wormed his way under Sebastian's skin and controlled him now. Jim wanted it hard and rough, Sebastian would give it hard and rough till it killed one or both of them.

Oh God, oh God oh God. Jim knew that this should stop, that he should at least keep Sebastian from leaving the marks all over his body. Charles might not tell him who he wasn’t allowed to have sex with, but there were _rules_ about being available for him and Charles would not want to fuck him with another man’s fingers bruised into his hips, with his teeth marks on the back of his neck and his shoulder, scratches down his back and the scrapes he could feel forming on his knees and his face from fucking on the hard floor. He knew he should stop, shouldn’t have started, Magnussen was going to be so angry but fuck it — it felt so good and Jim didn’t know how to stop anyway, it couldn’t get worse for him by this point. “Fucking break me. Only chance you are going to get Moran, make it count.” Jim was pretty sure about that. Charles would never let them in a room together after this. His arse felt raw and abused and the friction was so so good even if he could feel the chafing a little on the side of painful.

"Don't want you fucking broken..." Sebastian growled into his ear, his hips still hammering hard into Jim's arse. "Want you put you the fuck together again... dammit." Yanking himself away he slapped a handprint across Jim's arse and then whisked him around, picking him up and slamming Jim back down in his lap, forcing his cock back into the hot swollen space. Hands on Jim's hips he thrust the little body up and down grunting with the effort to impale him over and over, "I will fucking make it count, here, see your damn colours here." Grabbing Jim's hands, he tugged them up to his face and chest, giving Jim something to touch and 'see' as he fucked him hard, arms holding him in place, cock ramming into him, "Jesus you'll be limping for a week.”

That made Jim pause in his thoughts, everything got put on hold for him. He didn’t need put back together again, despite what Sebastian insisted about his situation Jim was powerful, he was intelligent and ruthless when it came to his enemies. He didn’t need saving, and if Sebastian thought he was going to do that for him, he had another thing coming. Jim had already been saved once. Although, if Jim was the princess in the story then Charles was the dragon, hoarding him away in the tower along with all of the other pretty things he owned. That didn’t make Sebastian a knight. The slap brought him back and Jim pushed his arse out for more, but the next thing he knew their positions were changing. Jim hated being manhandled, didn’t like not knowing where he was, but Sebastian took his hands and put them on his face and his chest and Jim was able to get his bearing. Jim took the opportunity to slap him again. “I’m blind, not a limp doll.” But then Sebastian was forcing him back down onto his cock and Jim couldn’t stay firm and serious, he just melted all to pieced, gasping and sobbing because everything felt so good Jim didn’t have words for it because he was experiencing something more than a mere human could understand. “G-good. Want to be limping if it means this doesn’t stop. Fuuuuuck.” Jim scratched his nails across Sebastian’s shoulders and his back, down his chest, leaving little tiger stripes on him, hard enough that the man lost a little skin.

"T-then it won't stop..." Sebastian promised, his gasping breath catching, the sting of the third slap bringing tears to his eyes, not least at the vulnerability he felt, despite currently slamming Jim down on to his cock hard enough to get friction burns. He moaned low at the fingernails stinging along his back, wrapping arms tightly around Jim to pull him close, "W-won't leave you unfinished," He promised as he felt himself starting to shake, "I-I'll keep going with my fucking _fist_ if I have to - a-ahhhh.”

Jim found that endearing somehow, even though he was fucking him hard enough that the hurt was winning out over the good, even though he didn’t want the colors to stop, Jim knew it had to come to an end eventually. “It’s okay. Come inside me.” Jim grit his teeth and tightened around him, rippling his ass and thrusting down hard to take over the work and fuck himself on that cock.

Sebastian didn't need asking twice, so close to the edge that he slammed Jim down, grabbed onto him with hands, arms and nails and then roared at the ceiling as his orgasm crashed around him. Despite earlier promises he knew as soon as it swept over him that there was no way he was going to be able to provide much more for Jim after this, or do anything except lie still and whimper a bit. He continued clutching Jim as he came down, breathing and gasping into his ear, body trembling as his cock softened down, the cum starting to slide out down Jim's thighs.

Jim gasped and winced as Sebastian grabbed tight to him and then just rode it out for the most part. “Your color is burnt orange.” Jim decided with a grin. “It’s like your aura.” He let Sebastian hold on to him for a few minutes as he came down and settled. His cum slid down Jim’s thighs and he wrinkled his nose at the feeling. He brushed a finger over the line, getting some on his finger and then holding it in front of him with an eyebrow raised challengingly. “Eat it.” He demanded, pushing the fingertip towards where he thought Sebastian’s mouth was.

Sebastian looked up, exhausted, aching, grinning and gave a little despairing chuckle at Jim's finger. Now he had to eat his own cum, of course. Tilting his head forward he slid his lips around Jim's finger, sucking it gently and then sliding them off before falling over backwards, "Alright, that's your lot. No more performing from this dancing bear. Hope you're not too sore." He closed his eyes, watching colours dance in front of them and finally giving a grin, "Orange, yeah? Well, could be worse.”

“It’s burnt orange.” Jim clarified prissily to him as Sebastian’s mouth worked over his fingertips. He used his hands to do so much of his exploration of the world, having his fingers in someone’s mouth was always intensely erotic for him. Jim had been leaning on Sebastian and when he fell back he had to catch himself to keep from falling. “Yeah well… hope springs eternal.” Jim pulled himself off of Sebastian’s soft cock, biting his lip to keep from whining or making some embarrassing noise. “Define too sore? Never mind. I need a wash.” Jim was just going to run the shower for a minute. He almost tripped on his pants still around his ankle and Jim managed to stay sober enough to find the bathroom and even managed to wash the come off. He spent way too long in the shower, each drop seemed to bounce off his skin, Jim felt like he had entered some other dimension while he was tripping in the shower. He came out eventually in his pants again, finding Paul and snuggling up to him on the couch, rubbing against him like a cat and kissing all over his skin. “Ugh… what is this? You taste ashy.” It was actually the soot from the fireplace. “You’re crazy.” As Jim kissed over Paul, touched and squeezed at his skin and rubbed his chest and cock against him, he didn’t see colors, he heard those records Paul always liked to play while they fucked and got stoned. 

Sebastian mumbled a "sorry" gently into the air before promptly falling asleep there and then, trousers all round his ankles, cock out, shirt rucked up. Paul stared at him, then gently skittered over, covered him with Jim's jacket and scurried back to the sofa, hanging onto it and squeezing as Jim appeared, happily wriggling in his grasp, "I - I don't know, I flew over to the fire b-but there were animals in the fireplace and t-they were nice and then Sebastian was scary and now I'm going to fall off again…"

“It’s okay, I’ll catch you.” Jim promised, nuzzling at his neck and biting at his earlobe. He wasn’t normally _soft_ with Paul because he topped and that wasn’t who he was. But Jim was worn out and already sated from Sebastian, his edge had been temporarily dulled and he was happy to cuddle up with his friend and consider the universe and his place in it. Jim didn’t sleep, because he couldn’t sleep with the acid in his system, but he drifted, almost in an out of body experience with Paul there on the couch. A few hours later there was a lot of loud banging on the door and Jim sat up, startled and suddenly panicky.

“Moriarty you sick little fuck let me in. Don’t make me break down your fucking door again. You going to keep hiding behind Charles’ skirts? Let me the fuck in.” Sam was already on his feet and growling fiercely, all his teeth showing and his tongue darted out occasionally to wet his canines. He had his hackles up because he knew that human’s voice.

“No no no no…” Jim moaned, carefully getting to his feet and pulling Paul with him. “You have to hide. Come on. Bathroom.” Jim carefully walked with Paul to the bathroom, pushing him toward it. “Lock the door and hide in the bathtub.” Like in a tornado. Because his father was a natural disaster.

Sebastian pretty much passed out, giving a groan as he heard a bang on the door. While he ached a little, he wasn't hungover or compromised so he was able to just roll over and tug his trousers up, frowning as he heard the voice and standing up. Rolling his shoulders he cracked his knuckles, wishing he'd been able to keep his gun, and headed to the front door.

Brooke stared at Sebastian in surprise, he’d expected to see his son or maybe one of the other whores he hung around with, not this older man who was the same height as him and well-muscled. “Who the fuck are you? You know what, I don’t care. Are you his new fuck hole? Well get out.” He kept his gaze trained carefully on Sam, the dog had already bitten him quite badly once before, he had scars and he was ready. Even though he was drunk, Brooke was proficient and good in combative situations. When the dog lunged he was ready and he gave the animal a swift kick in the ribs, causing it to yelp, before he grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and threw it in the coat closet, shutting the door on the animal. Sam barked madly and jumped against the door, scratching furiously and trying to escape. Jim heard the yelp and he came back to the living area, hands shaking a little where he had them folded behind his back. Jim didn’t know where his father was, if he was about to get hit, he didn’t know what he was doing to his dog. “You need to leave.” Jim said firmly, betraying none of his fear.

"Yeah, new fuck hole." Sebastian answered warily, still trying to work the man out. His eyes widened as Brooke attacked Sam, growling and gently patting the door of the closet, quickly growling a "you stay out of trouble, I've got his back for this one" back at the trapped dog as he followed Brooke into the lounge. Standing by the door he crossed his arms, watching Brooke, keeping his eyes on him and, when he saw Jim enter the room, spoke up with a "I'm guessing this is your dad, need me to throw him out?" just to let Jim know he was there.

Jim was relieved to hear Sebastian’s voice, even if he didn’t show it. His face was blank and hard, posture closed off and powerful even if he was just standing there in his pants. “Is the dog okay?” He heard the cry but that could have meant anything, he could have cut him or stabbed him. Jim could hear the scratching and barking at a door — he didn’t know exactly where Sam was or where his father was for that matter. “No it’s fine. Best to let him have his little hissy fit while someone is here and not later, you know. Get it all out. Hurry up and say what you have to say and get the fuck out.” Jim encouraged, taunting him. He could smell the alcohol and it made him nauseous.

“Fine.” Brooke grit his teeth and drew himself up to his full height, used to intimidating people, Jim in particular, but didn’t think about the fact he couldn’t see the gesture anymore. “I knew you were a faggot but I didn’t know you were incestuous too. You really are disgusting. Is it my fault that you turned out this way? I hit you and now — what? You like taking up the ass from a man old enough to be your grandfather, he half raised you, and you call him _daddy_ while he spanks you and fucks you? Was that what you were thinking about with me, hmm? You are one sick fuck.” Brooke couldn’t help but feel that his son had brought him into his faggy behavior somehow. “Bad enough that I have to hear about it, now you’re bringing me into your disgusting lifestyle?”

"Sam's fine." Sebastian answered, "Kicked and bruised, but not injured, I'll let him out as soon as the danger's past and take care of him." His voice was low, and currently non-threatening, but there was plenty of power behind it and he watched Brooke impassively. He raised an eyebrow at the information that was given, feeling more simmering anger towards Magnussen, and indeed more of a need to protect Jim and help him, but still kept quiet. Jim was in charge here, and until Jim gave the order Sebastian wasn't about to charge over and give his father a slap, much as he wanted to.

Jim took a breath and let it out, glad to put Sam out of his mind and focus. “I am not sexually attracted to you. I have never gotten any enjoyment, sexual or otherwise, out of the shit you put me through. What, did you think I popped a boner when I was unconscious at the bottom of the stairs? Your ego astounds me, it really does.”

“But you don’t deny it though.” Brooke cut in, slurring his words just slightly. “You are an embarrassment. I wish I killed you, because living with your bones buried under the back porch would have been easier than having to walk around his offices, hearing them all snigger and laugh because _the boss is reaming his secretary over the desk again._ A man came up to me and asked me if you do it with your dog. I did not give up years of my life to take you in so that I would have to deal with that shit and watch you fuck your way to the top. I don’t care if you outrank me. I’m not the boss’ bitch. They don’t respect you. None of them. You’re just his little charity case and he lets you take the reins sometimes when he’s too busy to satisfy you with his cock.”

"He's the embarrassment?" Sebastian murmured, "When you're staggering around like a drunken twat about to fall over, yeah I'm sure you get all the 'respect' from a bunch of whores, degenerates and wankers." He didn't say too much more though, not wanting to overstep, or to push anything Jim didn't want to happen. He kept an eye on Jim, checking that he wasn't letting the words phase him, or get to him. When Brooke paused though he raised his voice with a "Finished? When you're finished, I think I'm allowed to kick you out and let you crawl home. I've no great desire to hear a drunk hit-man lamenting his wasted life, so try and hurry it up.”

“I suppose your great desire is to be fucked by my son? You have to be a special kind of slut to want to be fucked by someone else’s damaged kept whore.” The thing about Brooke was that even when he was drunk he was still deadly, most of the time he was more dangerous. He was unwell, impulsive like Jim but in a way that always left someone bleeding. His expression went blank, matching Jim’s, and he stared Sebastian down — thinking of how many different ways he could kill his son’s new toy. “You know I’ve never killed one of your toys in front of you before. I’m afraid the effect would be lost since you can’t actually see. Pity. I’ll have a glass of water, and then I’ll leave.” He moved to the kitchen slowly, filling up the glass, digging around in the cabinets, then Brooke drained the whole thing — taking his time. It lulled Jim into a false sense of security, but also built anticipation. He’d left some of the drawers and cabinets open and the moment he drank the last drop and set the glass on the counter Brooke moved faster than would normally be possible for how much he’d had to drink, grabbed the meat tenderizer out of the drawer and struck Jim hard across the temple with it. He stood over him and Jim crumpled to the floor, blood on the dull spikes, and he raised it up to bring it down again. Brooke had decided he wasn’t going to stop until his son’s head looked like hamburger.

"Yeah well, I tried being a policeman and it didn't work out for me so I thought fuck-toy for a whore would do it." Sebastian replied, face and voice blank, deciding he hated Jim's father and would rather enjoy hurting him. He didn't let his guard down at all as Brooke headed to the kitchen, but wasn't quite prepared for the man to suddenly crack Jim across the face with a meat tenderisor. Sebastian lunged forward, grabbing the arm holding it and wrenching it hard behind Brooke's back, slamming a knee up into the back of his balls. The training school had taught Sebastian Moran how to bring a man down without causing him any major injury, and then the years on the street had taught him a large number of interesting and exciting injuries to do along the way. One hand held Brooke's wrist tight and secure halfway up his back while the other secured his free hand. Sebastian tried to kick the man's legs apart, wishing he was still wearing boots as he pushed him to the ground.

Brooke just laughed as the whore pushed him to the ground and pinned him there. He really was a cop then. “You must be Moran. Didn’t you learn your lesson already? Don’t stick your dick in Magnussen’s boy.” He sighed and was calm enough to get a breath despite Sebastian’s weight on him. He knew a few tricks to wiggle free but Brooke would rather talk him into letting him go. “You can let me up now, you’ve stopped my nefarious plot. What are you going to do, call your pig friends? Magnussen will kill you if you do. And besides, little Jimmy isn’t stirring. If you let me go, I’ll leave, I’ve made my point, and you can tend to your fallen stud, how’s that?”

"Magnussen will kill me anyway." Sebastian growled, "I've marked his whore, haven't I? Isn't that how this goes? And I'm not a cop anymore, I've got nothing to fucking lose..." his eyes flickered to where Jim lay as he said that, and he gave a growl, reaching to pick up the meat tenderisor, "Speaking of learning lessons, I'm not about to just let you get up like a fucking gentleman." He snapped, raising the meat tenderisor high and aiming it at a point between Brooke's shoulder blades.

Brooke had his head turned to the side, he’d been watching Moran’s hands as he picked up the tenderizer. If it hit where he was intending to Brooke would end up paralyzed. The cool and adrenaline hit, he took a breath in, got his free arm underneath him and did a pushup from his one arm and his knees, twisting as he pressed up and dumped Moran in a heap off of his back. The tenderizer lost a lot of momentum and only hit hard enough to bruise bad on his upper arm, just short of his shoulder joint. A hair and he would have broken his shoulder. He grit his teeth and hissed in pain but held back noise. Sebastian was on the floor now and Brooke scrambled up, kicked him in the throat and ran off out the front door.

Sebastian curled up, gasped, then straightened, pushing off from a sprinting start and not stopping until he reached the door, with Brooke running off on the other side of it. Hurrying back, he let Sam out of the closet, banged on the bathroom door for Paul, then ran straight back to Jim, pushing him gently into the recovery position and then shaking his shoulder. "Jim, kid, open your eyes, look at me." Paul, half-naked, uncertain, a bit high, took one look at them and had hysterics, falling to the floor and shrieking that Jim was dead and Sebastian had killed him, until Sebastian turned around and gave him an annoyed slap round the face.

Sam came out with his head ducked low and immediately made his way to Jim. His human smelled hurt, Sam nosed at his bleeding head and started barking loudly at Jim, trying to get him to wake up. He was a lot more intelligent than even others in his breed because of his training. He knew he had to make sure his Jim could move. Sometimes his Jim fell or tripped because he couldn’t see, and Sam had to make sure he got up again. He was agitated and there was shrieking and the big human was shaking his Jim. All of this noise wasn’t stirring Jim though. He’d been unconscious for about a minute, maybe two. Sam wiggled nervously and didn’t know what to do so he laid down and curled up next to Jim like he would a hurt pack mate.

"Shit..." Sebastian growled. Turning he grabbed Paul and gave him a little shake of the shoulders. "Alright, pull yourself together. I need you to phone your boss - yes the big boss. Tell him Jim's dad was here and fucked him over. Tell him..." he hesitated and bit his lip, but Paul was looking wide eyed and obedient. "Tell him the two of you took acid. Tripped and fucked around, and then his dad turned up just as you came down, hit him with a meat tenderisor then fucked off." Carefully, he wiped his own fingerprints off it and handed it to Paul. "There we go. No need to bring me into it. I'm staying here till I hear someone arrive at that door though. He needs to keep breathing and stop the blood flow. Ideally he needs to get conscious again pretty damn quick." Paul stumbled towards the phone in the hall while Sebastian quickly checked Jim's airways and made sure he was dressed.

Sam had several trained responses he was supposed to do if his owner seemed hurt or wasn’t getting up. He was listening and waiting in anticipation for something to do and he heard one command _phone._ He stood up on his hind legs against the wall, nosing the corded telephone off the cradle and brought it over in his mouth. It didn’t reach all that far but they happened to be right next to the kitchen, where the phone was. Another minute or so went by and Jim began to stir, his eyelids fluttered open but of course he couldn’t see anything. “‘lo?” He asked, disoriented and high and Jim couldn’t remember what happened or why his head hurt so much. “Sam? Phone.” The dog nosed at his hand and laid down. The other human was already using the phone but he wanted his Jim to know he was there.

Sebastian gave a sigh of relief, gently patting Jim's shoulder, not wanting to touch his head, "Paul's on the phone right now." He said clearly, "You're safe, you're in your house, on the kitchen floor, your dad attacked you and smacked your head. Just concentrate on breathing and being conscious. You've stopped bleeding. How many fingers am I - oh bugger -" he hadn't been taught how to tell concussion in anyone who couldn't see and he swore, irritated. "Just remain conscious, okay?"

Paul got off the phone and whispered, "He's sending someone. N-not Darren. Medical people. They'll take Jim back home. Um..."

Sebastian came over and gently patted his head, seeing how miserable the boy looked, "Good kid. Well done. You get your clothes straightened up and stay with him. Don't let either you or the dog leave his side.”

Jim was taken to Magnussen’s illegal hospital, they ran an x ray and found a skull fracture, nothing that would require surgery. The doctors wouldn’t give him any drugs and Jim was having the worst trip of his life, his head felt like it was caving in and the test and treatments were all suddenly much more terrifying than normal. Jim was never doing acid again. It was four or five hours later, he was laid out in Charles’ bed with Sam laying over his feet no matter how much he squirmed or tried to kick at him, the dog was stubborn. He’d been acting more aggressively since the doctors wouldn’t let him with Jim sometimes, but now he had settled down since they were in a very familiar place and no one else was around. Jim knew he was in so much trouble and he was trying to keep that worry from overcoming him right now. Anxiety over seeing Charles and the pain from his swollen head were warring in his mind for attention. Paul was sitting with him and Jim just wanted quiet so he could rest and fret in peace.

Paul had been watching Jim miserably feeling uncertain and worried and that it was probably his fault for bringing the acid. He felt the familiar wash of helplessness - Sebastian, Jim's father, people continuously came and hurt anything he cared for and turned his world all nasty again. He jumped as Magnussen entered, falling dumb and unable to think of any excuses.

"Jim?" Magnussen said quietly. "I've just come in." He gave Paul a long look and then said, "Go back to your room, Paul. You are in a lot of trouble, but you won't be harmed. Please get back to work immediately." Paul fled and Magnussen came over, gently resting a hand on Jim's forehead. "My poor boy. Does it hurt badly?”

Jim should have felt relieved to have his lover finally there with him, but instead his tension only increased. It was good that Paul wasn’t going to be hurt, none of this had been his fault. “I asked specifically for those drugs. I know you don’t like me to be on them and around you so I thought this would be a good time to take them since you weren’t going to be around the next few days.” Charles’ clammy hand just made Jim more nervous. He couldn’t see or hear any anger in his voice but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. “I’m fine.” He certainly wasn’t going to complain when it was his own fault that they couldn’t give him morphine.

Magnussen drew back, and for a moment remained silent, not wanting Jim to have any clues before he finally tapped his head injury. "Your father did this." He said finally before removing his hand again. "He will be punished. But he told me a curious thing, that Sebastian Moran was at your house. This is a man who you have implicated for assaulting you sexually in the back of a police car. He is a disgraced nobody. Why was he at your house and trying to hit your father with a meat tenderiser?”

Jim sat in the tension and finally whimpered when Magnussen tapped the fractured area of his skull. He was so tired and in a lot of pain and coming down from the worst trip of his life. Jim didn’t want to answer complicated questions. “He was there waiting outside when we got there. He got kicked out of his flat and said I owed him a place to crash for the night. It didn’t matter to me, I was there with Paul. We were just going to have some drinks and smoke some pot. I — I don’t remember a lot of what happened but they told me that he was — protecting me. Brooke was going to keep hitting me and Sebastian stopped him. He locked Sam in the closet. I hid Paul I guess, I don’t remember that.”

"You have taken illegal drugs that I forbid." Magnussen said, allowing a little anger to penetrate his voice, just a little. "You have associated with a man you should not have. And now you are here, injured, hurting, with your friend in trouble and me - I am so upset, Jimmy, upset and disappointed. I look after you, you know I do, but how can I watch out for you if you are getting yourself in trouble? How much time can I spend protecting you?" He sighed and then gently tapped Jim's face, "Stay here. Rest, recover, take morphine when you can. I do not want you leaving the house for the time being, understood?" He stroked Sam's fur, "Keep him here, Stay House.”

It was completely fucking unfair and Jim felt so childish, that tone just set him right back to when he’d been a kid and he’d fallen asleep with the carton of chocolate ice cream in his bed. Jim did not like disappointing him. This was humiliating and the concussion and drugs made him emotional. Jim managed not to cry until after Charles left the room and then he was very quiet because he didn’t want to aggravate his head wound. Sam was sore but he wasn’t going to move or let his Jim go anywhere, he didn't need to be told. Jim resigned himself to being trapped in the house for the time being. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: sex while one person is high, and another sober, violence.


	7. Go Dig a Grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End note TWs have spoilers this chapter.

Magnussen left Jim alone for the day, but he was thinking about him, and had a man sent to trail Moran and make sure he wasn't causing trouble. He seemed just to be trailing around London getting drunk and into the odd fight, which was disappointing but not unexpected. He got back to the house and paused, coming up the stairs and briefly stopping into Paul’s room. True to his word, the boy wasn't harmed, even if he was being worked hard, and Magnussen didn't touch him, even if his words left Paul sniffling and nodding, staring at the floor and shivering. When he'd finished he headed up to Jim's room, slowing before he reached the door, trying to consider his approach.

Jim spent most of the time sleeping, he hadn’t been able to get much rest the night before. There was a strange weight sitting low in his rib cage, it was the unfamiliar emotion that came with Charles’ words _disappointed._ Oh Jim had been a disappointment before, he couldn’t help it with his da, but not with Charles, not really. There was also a defiance though, because from what he understood of their _rules_ Jim hadn’t broken any of them. He hadn’t thought he was doing anything wrong. He spent most of his time with lowlifes and shit stains, what did it matter what he did with Moran? Jim thought it had something to do with Sebastian’s body, so he resolved not to let Charles find out if he could help it. That nagging feeling of shame wasn’t going away though, so when Charles called ahead and said that he was coming home, Jim had called for Italian, and gotten dressed in some of his nicer clothes. His door opened and Jim took a guess at who it was. “I just ordered us some food. I thought we could eat dinner together, we haven’t done that in a while. It’s going to be about thirty minutes before it gets here, would you go on a walk with me? Sam hadn’t been out.” The dog had gotten up with a wince to say hello to Magnussen, wagging his tail and nosing at his hand for a treat. It was his dinner time soon too.

Magnussen smiled to see Jim so nicely dressed and ready, petting and giving Sam a treat before coming over and gently kissing Jim on the forehead. "How are you, how is your head? You've had me so worried, but I'm glad you're walking and seem to be better. You look lovely." He hastily put down his things and nodded, following it quickly with a, "Yes, a walk sounds good, although not too far or you will get dizzy. We need to talk about some things.”

Jim nodded carefully, not wanting to upset his balance. With the head injury if he moved his head too quickly it was very easy to get vertigo which could be pretty shitty for someone who couldn’t see. Jim reached out for Charles’ shoulder when he kissed his forehead, sliding his hand from the shoulder to his bicep so that he could be guided from the room to outside. “I am better today. I wouldn’t have taken LSD if I’d known I’d be going to the hospital. The whole time I was completely convinced I’d been kidnapped by aliens for experimentation.” It sounded funny, but it really really wasn’t. “I was able to take a little morphine today and I rested. Head’s sore but I haven’t had any complications from the skull fracture.” There was a thick bandage wrapped around his head, not only to keep his wound clean but to hopefully keep the bones from shifting. Jim heard the outside door open and Sam was off, running around and barking at some birds. “What did you want to talk about?”

"About you." Magnussen said quietly, "And your place in what I do." He let that sink in for a moment, watching Jim's expression, rather pleased that he'd been able to do this while Jim was hurt and vulnerable and less likely to be hiding things, "Jimmy... you will always be my little Jimmy and I will always want to be with you and bed you but... you've been hanging around with Moran, you play your little games with Paul, you're growing older and, I think, you need more to do, hmm? Are you getting bored of just looking pretty for me, that you need to find other, dangerous ways to pass your time?”

Jim felt a brief flicker of irritation but kept it off his face. This was business, but Magnussen was treating it like it was personal. “I’m very nearly always bored. I can’t help that. The closest I get to not being bored is when I’m running the narcotics division.” The problem was that Jim had created a system, put it in place, and now it rarely required his attention, he’d delegated his responsibilities so that he didn’t have to deal with the day to day issues. It was frustrating that not only was Magnussen trying to make this personal, but he was just straight lying. Jim was more than aware that twenty was _old_ that Charles wouldn’t _always_ want him. He knew better than to call him on his games though. “Did you have any ideas about how to redirect that energy then?”

"Oh Jimmy, you should have said." Magnussen said reproachfully, gently stroking the back of his neck as Sam enjoyed the sunshine. "As a matter of fact I do, there are more things I would like you to take control of, some of our client areas, things that I trust you with. There are very few people I trust, you know that." He kissed the top of Jim's head and then said, more seriously, "I did have to have a word with Paul this morning. He's being a very good boy; keeping his head down and working hard, hmm? I think you lead him astray…"

That was a relief for Jim, that this was only going to be business and not personal. Then a possibility occurred to him and his stomach dropped, “Are you pimping me out again?” It would… make sense with the way Charles had presented the idea. Jim had automatically assumed he’d been talking about the arms dealing or one of the other major divisions. The hand on the back of his neck started to feel more controlling than comforting. “I’m glad he’s not making trouble. I really didn’t think we were doing anything wrong, you know I’m not outright defiant. He likes me and wants to make me happy.”

Magnussen gave a smile, letting Jim panic for just a moment longer before saying quietly, "No, of course not. Unless, unless that's what you want? Do you see Paul working so very hard and do you get jealous, hmm? Of all the big hard cocks I make him take, every day? You are worth more to me than a whore - you controlled the narcotics so well but now we are expanding overseas and I need someone to take care of more of my business here in London. The gambling, the casino's, that area of things. Can you do that for me, Jimmy?”

He nodded, smirking. “Get poor men to spend more money than they have? Yes, I can do that. Are you leaving me for an American?” Jim teased him, stretching up to kiss his jaw now that he knew he wasn’t in trouble. “No I do not want to be a whore, I want to run the whores.” He didn’t mean that literally, but Jim did want to be in a management position. He couldn’t help but frown and get sulky when he remembered his conversation with his father the night before. “Not that it really matters. That’s all anyone else thinks of me anyway. I’m just a joke to them, despite the fact I’ve proven I can get results. Why did you have to tell my da all that stuff? You knew he wouldn’t come after you, that he’d target me.”

"You want to take over the prostitution ring? No..." Magnussen shook his head, "I do not think you can do that. Because you have been one, because you cannot see them as units to be used for money, as you see the casino punters and the narcotics purchasers. When it's the early morning, and your little friend Paul has been working so hard all night and a man comes in with a riding crop and a gleam in his eyes, I do not think you would be able to order him in again, to smack him and tell him to smile. That is not your job. That is someone else’s. What I chose to tell your father and why? That is my job." He frowned, lifting Jim's hand to trace the fingers over the annoyed lines on his face, "Do you care what he thinks of you? You should not. You should not care what anyone thinks of you except me.”

“All I meant was that I want to manage people, not be managed.” Charles correct in his estimation of Jim, he didn’t see the whores as units, he played with them and he partied with them and Jim knew them as human beings. It just wasn’t a good fit. Jim tensed up as his fingers were forcefully traced over the lines of annoyance, the fact that Charles was annoyed and that he was going out of his way to let Jim know was not encouraging. He dropped the subject. It was done, and Charles would always do whatever the fuck he wanted, regardless of what Jim wanted. He let himself be managed. “And is that what you think of me? You think I got off on him hurting me, that’s why I am the way I am, why I let you do things like that in bed? I didn’t realize that such a private thing was up for public discussion.” If Jim ran around telling everyone about Charles and his secrets, then Jim didn’t expect he’d hold on to his life very long.

"Is that what he said?" Charles replies mildly, "I did not say that at all. Sometime, Jimmy, people need to be manipulated. Your father included. They need to be made to believe things that may not be true, they need to be twisted into the right shape. You included. You _know_ this, and now you're being tiresome. What good would it be if I only told your father safe and true things to keep him happy? He would not be the worker I need. Believe me, he will be punished severely for what he did to you. But as for me - no, of course I do not believe you got off on him hurting you, or on me hurting you. You enjoy the way I treat you, don't you? Oh Jim...” he drew back a little, concern touching his voice, "Jimmy, my little Jimmy, you do not think I treat you badly, do you?”

Jim did understand, but he didn’t think that Charles should use him as a tool to manipulate his father. Jim should be above that. He really didn’t know what to say when Charles asked him if he felt like he was mistreated. “No.” Jim answered honestly, although he was a little confused. Mostly he was remembering Sebastian saying _you can’t explain water to a fish._ “You have been very good to me. I didn’t intend to cause trouble for you. I’ll heal up soon, it’s not the first time he’s caved my head in. At least I didn’t lose another one of my senses this time. The food will be here soon, we should go in.” Jim whistled for his dog and gave him a scratch behind the ears when Sam nosed at his hand.

"I have been good to you." Magnussen said fondly, gently helping Jim inside. He needed to keep Jim on his side, to keep him fully controllable, but at the same time he needed Jim's intelligence and guile to run parts of the company that he couldn't manage anymore. It was a constant strain, needing Jim to be independent but at the same time so utterly dependent, it was a hard thing to balance.

 

* * *

 

 

Jim healed up slowly but surely, after about a week he was still careful, he still slept a lot and found certain tasks more difficult than usual, but he was able to be up and around more — listening to the news in the living room and getting out of bed, dressing himself and ordering-in most days instead of cooking. Today he felt up for a walk so he carefully scrawled out a note, very slowly and tried to keep his lines neat without being able to see, letting Charles know he was going to walk Sam. The dog was feeling better and he was eager for a little exercise, even if it was just a walk on his harness. Jim was familiar with Magnussen’s area, familiar enough that with Sam’s help he could do alright. They came to a street crossing, Jim told him to go forward but Sam wouldn’t. That meant there was a car coming, quiet enough that Jim didn’t hear, but he still had bandages over his head, it wasn’t a surprise his hearing was a little impaired. The first he heard of the car was a door opening, he still didn’t think anything of it until he felt someone grab his wrist and dig a gun into his back. Jim tensed up but tried to stay calm. “I have some money in my wallet, it’s in my back right pocket. I don’t have any other valuables on me. I’m blind, I can’t see your face, you can just leave. No questions asked.”

"I know who you are." A voice growled into his ear, "And I certainly know you're blind. You should know we've got a gun on the dog as well. I want you, and it, into this car right now or you'll both be spread over the pavement." From behind Jim, the man started manouvering him. "There's somebody wants to speak to you - maybe a little bit annoyed that his favourite bobby is no longer on the beat. We're at the car, now get in, and don't even think about ordering the dog to attack.”

Jim rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses and nodded. Sam wasn’t trained to attack on command, but he would attack if he saw someone hurting Jim, he wasn’t trained to recognize a gun as a threat so in his mind all of this was fine. He carefully felt along the side of the car, the door was open and Sam immediately hopped up in the back seat to sit on the floor at Jim’s feet. Best to get this over with and just hope they didn’t kill him. _I was just following orders_ never really worked as an excuse with these types of people. Distantly Jim wondered if he was important enough to finally meet Mycroft Holmes.

The car drove on a little further and then stopped again, the man warning Jim from the front "Don't move." The door opened, there was some brief cursing, and then a much heavier body was thrown into the other side, that cursed in Sebastian's voice.

Seb was tied and with a gun to his head there wasn't much he could do other than gasp as he saw Jim there. "Hey..." he managed, not wanting to say anything else, not even sure it was worth giving away that they knew each other but wanting to reassure Jim that he was mostly okay. "You alright kid?”

Jim kept any anxiety he was feeling to himself, quietly petting the dog, trying to keep him calm because he couldn’t afford to have Sam bite anyone right now. He was surprised when they stopped again, had been prepared to get out, but Jim was told to stay. Someone else got in the back seat with him and Jim psychically startled when he heard Sebastian’s voice, asking if he was alright. It was strange. Jim’s body still ached from him, he felt like he could remember everything about their fuck on the floor. It was the first time he felt self-conscious in the presence of someone he’d had sex with, not since he was a kid. “I’m fine. Apparently we are going to see Mycroft, or his people anyway. I think it’s time to turn in your dance card.” It could very well be Jim’s turn as well.

There was a shaky laugh from Sebastian, "Yeah, this could be pretty bad kid." The man from the front turned around and ordered him to be quiet and, when Sebastian laughed, turned to smack him in the mouth with the end of the gun. Sebastian stayed quiet after that, until they reached their destination and the two of them were bullied and pushed out into an empty warehouse near the river.

Jim was shutting everything down, going back to that place he’d created as a child when his father got too drunk or too violent. The place in his mind he could go when he knew he was about to be hurt. There was a seed of concern that Sebastian was going to be hurt in front of him, tortured maybe, killed definitely. He didn’t feel the need to protect him, Sebastian had made his own choices. Magnussen would have had him gone with or without Jim’s involvement. Being pushed was not fun and Jim glared behind his sunglasses as Sam led him forward. The dog was anxious now, but it didn’t come across as aggressive yet. When they stopped Sam pressed against the side of Jim’s leg to let him know he was there.

Sebastian had already looked around the warehouse, no escape even before he was tied to the wall. Giving a groan he let himself relax, conserving energy, watching out for Jim. He wasn't hugely surprised as Mycroft Holmes appeared, wiping his hands like he'd just done something rather unpleasant. "Moriarty." He said formally, "I have something to discuss with you. A recent decision of yours, or your bosses, that I'm rather unhappy with. I'm sure you know how this goes.”

“Maybe you’d like to introduce yourself first?” Jim could guess who this was, but he’d never met many people from Mycroft’s group. He had no way of knowing if this was Mycroft or his little brother or some other lackey. Jim was still free, for all the good that did him. Still it was preferable to being tied up. Jim had an idea that Sebastian was still in the room… large and open space. Industrial. He could smell the water when they got out of the car. So a warehouse? Storage? On the water. “Discuss away, although I very much doubt that I can tell you anything you don’t already know.”

"Where are my manners, Mycroft Holmes. And you are James Moriarty, and this is my favourite ex-policeman. And this is Cyric." He gestured to the man pointing the gun at them, clearly either forgetting or not thinking that Jim couldn't see. "There are many things you could tell me that I don't know, but I'm not inclined to try and tear them out of you right now - that would be messy and annoy dear Charles more than I need to."

"You could tell me if your brother's still a virgin." Sebastian said insolently, swearing as the gun hit him again and Mycroft spared him a glance.

"Moran this has very little to do with you, and everything to do with Jim. Moran knows too much, you see, knows too much and gets in the way. It would be very, very easy for me to kill him.”

Jim didn’t know who the fuck Cyric was, he didn’t know he had a gun or any of that. “I imaging this will already annoy Charles quite a bit. Believe me, I understand your trouble with Moran. Cleaning house is never fun, but it should be kept _in house._ I fail to see what this has to do with me. I did not make the call to have him fired, I just did as I was told. If you have a message to pass on for Charles I’d recommend sending a telegram, it’s very fashionable, vintage you know.” Jim didn’t see what he could do for Sebastian so he just didn’t want to make it worse but otherwise focused on getting out of there without too many bruises himself. “In the interest of full disclosure, if you goal is not to kill or maim me I must insist you keep any violence away from my head. The skull fracture will become a depressed fracture if I’m hit again and I don’t think Charles wants me returned with further brain damage.”

"I wasn't intending to harm you at all, that would be incredibly rude of me." Mycroft gave a smile and then nodded at Cyric, "Now. I probably have to spell this out for you, given I'm aware you can't actually see. In a few minutes time Cyric is going to pull the trigger on this gun. You, James Moriarty, get to choose where the bullet ends up. Either inside Sebastian Moran, or inside your pet dog." Seb gave a strangled cry and then fell silent again as the back of the gun smacked across his head making him whine. "Your choice, Moriarty, just let us know. I think this will be a slightly stronger message than a telegram.”

Jim fell silent, feeling grateful for his sunglasses because he knew right now his eyes were wide. That — what? “So… I’ve taken out your bitch, now you’re taking mine? Is that the logic here because I fail to see it. Moran knows too much, you said it yourself. Don’t tell me you are just going to let him walk out of here if my dog gets killed, that doesn’t benefit you at all.” Jim did not like this at all, he didn’t want to be present or involved or implicated in Moran being shot. He’d stop it if he could but Jim didn’t see how Mycroft could be honest about this.

Mycroft raised his eyebrows, "Well - I didn't realise it was that much of a difficult choice for you! I assumed Moran wouldn't last more than a few seconds. But if you really were to value his life over that of a well-trained guide dog you should know that there are rumours that Charles is giving you a more prominent role, one that you'll find distinctly harder without a dog to help you."

Sebastian managed to splutter out a "Fucks sake Jim - don't hurt Sam." Before a warning movement from Cyric made him fall silent again.

“It’s not a difficult decision,” Jim said easily, feeling his stomach clench unpleasantly. He knew there was no right answer to this question but there were worse answers. The worst answer would be to deliberate and spend time and stall and let him see him sweat. “I realize that this possibly didn’t occur to you, that while this is a strong message to Charles, it is a personal attack on me. Are you not at all worried about having me for an enemy?” Jim’s work was pretty secretive but that was only so he didn’t end up in some kind of database. “Shut up.” Jim snapped at Sebastian as he spoke, calling out to him and making him look weak.

"You?" Mycroft gave a laugh, "Well I did wonder for a few moments whether making a deadly enemy of Charles's favourite blind whore might be dangerous but then I came to my senses. Don't worry about Moran, he tends to talk when he gets scared. Usually right before he pisses himself." He gave a small smile at the murderous look Seb shot him, "I will miss our little meetings, although probably not a huge amount given you were a waste of space even when you were a copper.”

The insult was fine, it didn’t even burn, he’d heard far worse and as time dragged on the pressure was getting more real. He still half expected Mycroft to tell him this was all a joke and then see what he would do. “I’m not going to participate in your games. They’re beneath me and a waste of my time. You’d think if you were bored enough to come up with half assed ways to try and get people to squirm then you’d have more time to build what you have Mycroft Holmes. You’re been stagnating. We’ve been very unimpressed. And you showed some promise too. Your brother as well. Tell him when you’re finished and lost everything, when he can’t skate by on your reputation any longer, that we have a bed free at the brothel. He can earn his drug money for once.”

Mycroft stepped closer, reaching forward and grabbing Jim's chin, forcing it up, "I'm going to count to five." He said, voice clipped. "If you haven't said the name of one of them, I'll shoot both of them. That'll send a real message won't it? Leave you here alone with two dead bodies, no help, no guide, no dog, if you're _lucky_ the police will find you first. I'm sure they'll be very kind. Five." He nodded to Cyric, who audibly clicked the gun, “Four."

Jim felt a surge of satisfaction as he finally got to Mycroft and he felt that hand clasp around his chin. It was pretty short lived. There was every possibility that Mycroft would kill both of them anyway but he knew what he had to do. “Stop. Give me the gun, I want to do it.” His voice was cold and his face expressionless, he took off the sunglasses and tucked them on his shirt collar just so that Mycroft would see how serious he was. “I’m not going to shoot you, I can’t see and you have more than one man here anyway. I’m going to do it, not your boy.”

"You think I'm going to give you my gun?" Mycroft look at him incredulously as Sebastian spluttered something through what sounded like a mouthful of blood. "If you can't aim at me, you can't aim at Moran. Tell me who you're shooting, and I'll get Cyric to help you. You can pull the trigger, but I'm not handing you the gun.”

“I can’t aim but I can fucking shoot something at point blank range.” Jim held out his hand, getting agitated and just wanting this to be over with. Why did Mycroft have to make this so hard?

Mycroft hesitated, then nodded at Cyric, who came across, knocking the gun across Sebastian's face again to shut him up before handing the gun to Jim. Mycroft watched impassively, raising his eyebrows, "Interesting choice. I'll just warn you that Cyric does, naturally, have another gun in case you wanted to try something unwisely heroic.

“I’m not heroic.” Jim said as he knelt down and commanded Sam to sit. He stroked his hands over to dog’s fur, looking for the right place to press the gun. Jim wanted this to be quick. “Good boy,” Jim breathed as the dog sat facing him obediently, not understanding at all what was going on, so trusting. He could hear Sebastian yelling something but he wasn’t listening to the words. “It’s just a fucking dog.” He said, as he pressed the gun under Sam’s chin, Jim held him still by the collar and pressed their cheeks together, almost embracing him, before he pulled the trigger. Sam didn’t make any noise, just collapsed against Jim’s shoulder, his ears were ringing terribly from the gunshot and there was blood — everywhere. All over his face and his hand and his clothes. Jim stood slowly, carefully sliding the fury body onto the floor of the warehouse before holding the gun out for someone to take. “I trust your morbid sense of humor is sated? I hope it was worth it Mycroft Holmes, because I don’t take well to being threatened. I won’t stop until your little empire is burnt to the ground, I think I’ll have your brother killed with a cock in his arse and a gun in his mouth and I’ll make you pull the trigger.” His voice was quiet, but it carried and Jim was absolutely serious. This wasn’t about the dog, this was about Mycroft thinking he could pick Jim off the street and manipulate him at gun point. That just wasn’t on.

"Really, I'm sure you will." Mycroft said dryly, nodding at Cyric. Cyric took the gun back, pressing his hand against the dog's fur briefly and then patting the side of Jim's cheek, pressing blood against him. Mycroft threw the keys within reach of Sebastian, "There you go. Once he's finished blubbing you should be able to get him to uncuff you and see you home. Good day. I'm sure I'll hear from Magnussen in due course." With that him and Cyric strode out, leaving silence apart from Sebastian's frantic gasping breath.

“You can bet on it… because I owe you Holmes.” Jim sang out as the two men’s steps left them alone. He could hear Sebastian’s quick breathing, he didn’t sound good… Jim reached out his hands in front of him and started moving slowly towards where he could hear the breathing, brushing his feet along the floor and looking for the keys. “This might take a while. I’m unusually slow.” After about a minute Jim’s foot tapped the keys and they clanged together. He bent down, scooped them up, and reached out to touch Sebastian. He got blood on his shirt but Jim felt along his body until he found the cuffs, then it was only a matter of feeling along for the key hole and unlocking them. “There. That’s better, I’m sure.” Jim’s ears were still ringing and he had this strangest sensation of an earthquake but he knew that his hands were steady.

As soon as he was unlocked, Sebastian practically fell on Sam, gasping frantically, and petting the limp dog. It took a good few minutes before he was able to put him down gently on the ground again, rubbing at his jaw and spitting out a gob of blood. He wanted to grab Jim, shout at him, slam him against the wall and ask why the fuck Jim hadn't just shot him but instead he took a shaky breath and muttered, "Bastards. Where are we going then…?”

Jim was strangely jealous of Sebastian’s grieving. He almost wished he could cry like that — or whatever he was doing. Jim had locked himself up tight tight tight and he wasn’t feeling any of this. It helped that he couldn’t see the damage he’d done, the blood on his face and his hands and his clothes. “Charles. His home. I left a note, he’ll be expecting me back soon. I need to — to bury the dog. He had some land. It’ll be fine.  I don’t know…” Jim hated saying that so he took the words back and started over. “We should… call. Or get a cab. Something. Find a tarp or canvas sheet to wrap him up in.”

"You... yeah... we should..." Sebastian pulled himself together a bit, looking around the industrial warehouse. Tugging over some plastic sheeting he gently wrapped the dog in it, shaking his head. "We came a bit of a way." He managed, words sounding thick. "We'll need some transport to get back, s'okay I'll find a taxi, I'll steal one if I have to, you just... yeah." Gently he picked up the dog, and then held out an arm to lead Jim, "'S get you home, alright?”

Jim nodded once and reached out tentatively for Sebastian’s arm, taking it and letting him lead him out into the world. It took them a while to find a cab that would take them but Jim eventually promised to pay the cabbie both the exorbitant fee to drive them all the way to Appledore but he also gave him money to have his cab cleaned after they left. Jim sat in silence, shaken but steady until they finally got to the house. This was Sebastian’s first time here but for Jim it was as familiar as his own home. He stumbled up to the door in a rush, got it open and went inside. “Just… come through here. You can put him on the floor.” Jim couldn’t think of a hygienic place to store the body, he couldn’t think right. 

Sebastian walked in, any fear he might have felt about walking into Magnussen's house dulled by the fact that Sam was dead and it could have been him, lying here bleeding into a tarpaulin. He gently laid the body on the most expensive looking piece of carpet, "Is there anything I should get you? Drink... anything?" He tried, helplessly.

“No no… he won’t want me to drink. Water? Just — the glasses are three cabinets to the right of the sink, bottom two shelves.” Jim went to the sink and turned the water on hot enough that steam started rising off of it and he began washing himself, getting the blood first off his hands and then his face and neck. The water burned but… he could feel the blood dried and tacky on his skin. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine.” Jim vocalized… to himself or Sebastian he didn’t really know. Where was Charles…?

Sebastian poured out the water as requested, glancing over at the door as it opened and snarling as a bodyguard rushed towards him, dropping the glasses he tackled the man, face still bleeding, taking him to the floor and stamping on the small of his back, holding him in a choke-hold and almost swallowing his tongue as Magnussen stepped backwards and gently patted him on the head. "Um... Jim." He managed, raising his voice, the man beneath him gasping, "Y-yer boss is here…"

Jim started shaking when he heard the glass break and the struggle, he had no idea who Sebastian was fighting but then he clued him in. Jim reached out with shaking hands, not knowing exactly where Charles was, but just making his way towards the front entrance and hoping he’d bump into him along the way. He didn’t want to look weak in front of Sebastian but he couldn’t help latching into Charles’s coat with his little hands and burying his face in his shirt. His pain medication for his head had worn off and Jim had a splintering headache. Jim took a deep breath, taking in Charles’ smell and not caring if he accidentally got blood on his expensive clothes.

"Jimmy..." Magnussen stepped forwards, wrapping arms around Jim's shoulders as Sebastian rammed his knee harder into the man below him, glaring at them. Magnussen held him, letting him shake and then reached into his pocket and tugged out a bottle of pills. Carefully he pressed two into Jim's pocket, "For you, if you want, I understand if you don't." Was all he said. "I heard from the taxi driver - and now I come home and find you and Moran and... what happened. Tell me what happened and what you want me to do, Jimmy, to make people suffer for you.”

Jim pressed harder against him when Magnussen didn’t push him away, he didn’t cry or anything like that but he felt traumatized, whatever he might have put up for Mycroft. “Holmes… he took me and — the dog. And Sebastian. And he told me I had to pick one of them. I wanted to do it myself, I didn’t want that bastard to do it.” Jim heard the pill bottle and felt the pills slip in his pocket, for later sounded like a brilliant idea. “I’m going to do it. I’ll take down Holmes.”

"You shot Sam." Magnussen said bleakly, gently rubbing at Jim's shoulders and back, letting him stay, letting him feel something. He couldn't have Jim breaking, and this would break him. "You will, of course you will, it'll happen." He glanced at Sebastian, his face bloody and bruised, "What did Moran do, shall I get rid of him?" He asked, clipped and businesslike, trying to work it out in his head.

Jim shuddered at hearing him say it so outright but he nodded, trying to force the logic again. “He — he only had a couple of working years left in him. We were together a long time.” Charles’ hand was soothing and Jim was able to slowly pry away his fingers from his lover’s coat. “What? No he helped me get home. He carried S— the dog back for me. Mycroft left me at the warehouse, I wouldn’t have been able to find my way to a street and a cab without Moran.”

"I see." Magnussen kept hold of Jim but moved, walking to stand in front of Moran. "He came with you here? Without arguing? Just as you said? What a loyal mongrel he is." He hesitated and then gave the man under Sebastian a kick, before lifting his foot to press it under Seb's chin, moving his face back and forth as Sebastian snarled a little, showing bloody teeth. "You saved him for Sam? Very well. He can take over Sam's job. You need a new dog and Moran will do until you can get something more... expertly trained.”

Because Charles was still holding onto him, Jim moved with him and latched onto his arm. He couldn’t see how his lover goaded Sebastian but his mouth dropped open when he heard his edict. “What? Moran?” Jim didn’t argue, because he wasn’t in the mood and he didn’t want to think about the fact that he needed a replacement for Sam. Jim swallowed nervously, his plan for keeping away from Moran and not thinking about their night together looked like a failure. “I want to bury the dog in the back yard… is that okay?”

"You need someone." Magnussen said crisply, "And Moran is loyal, can behave, and is currently needing protection from Holmes." He watched Sebastian archly, pressing the shoe into his face and then dropping it. "If he tries to have sex with you, I'll cut his cock off. He can blow you if you both want. Don't look at me like that Moran, I’m not blind and stupid. You are mine now, and Jimmy has been mine forever. You may bury Sam wherever you wish." He answered turning to Jim kindly, petting his hair.

“He can sleep in my old room?” Jim suggested, thinking of the room he’d stayed in as a child before he’d started sleeping with Charles. “That’s… sound logic.” Jim didn’t ask what would happen to Sebastian if he succeeded in sleeping with him, that would rather be stating the obvious. The little pets to his hair were soothing and Jim relaxed, leaning against Charles’ side. “Sebastian… there’s a tool shed outside. Go dig a grave. I’ll sit with him until you come back.” Jim didn’t want to leave his body alone and unattended.

"He is your dog he will sleep on the floor next to your bed where Sam used to sleep." Magnussen said in a firm voice. "If I want to be with you he will sleep outside the door. He is lucky to be alive and he knows it."

Sebastian cracked his knee against the bodyguard again then let him fall to the floor, giving Magnussen a two fingered salute and a twisted expression "'M going to get the spade then." He muttered for Jim's benefit, heading out

Okaaaaaay. Jim thought this was fucking weird but those were the brakes sometimes, working and living with Charles. Jim was surprised he was showing this much trust in him after being so angry over the incident with the acid. “I thought you were disappointed in me for associating with scum or something? Now you want him to sleep at the foot of my bed?” Jim pressed tight against Charles, looking for comfort and also experiencing that bizarre urge for sex that people sometimes got when experiencing grief. Jim just wanted to not feel shit, to feel something good and be alive. Later, maybe.

"He wouldn't be my choice, but he is yours." Magnussen said calmly, watching Sebastian digging out of the window. "He didn't feed you acid, after all. Paul did. I want you to be able to function, for that you need a seeing-eye dog. Until you get one, Sebastian will be your dog. It will suit him. Once you get one, he will be used to working with the organisation, and for me. I can use him. You, you can train him." He gave a little smile.

That made more sense to Jim, he didn’t know about Sebastian being his _choice_ but he could work with this. “He saved my life.” Jim tried to justify but he knew that Sam had saved his life many times over and it was a weak excuse. He didn’t know how he felt about getting a new dog but Jim recognized that he had a much more difficult time getting around without one. He’d actually been lucky to be able to work with Sam as long as he had. Jim wrapped his arms around Charles’ waist. “Will I get to see you tonight? Are you very angry at Mycroft or only mildly annoyed? I remember now, he had that Cyric with him, wasn’t he the one that murdered our whores a few years back?” They had been terrified to go out and earn money because that rapist piece of shit had been stalking the streets, Mycroft pulled him in line apparently.

"I am furious." Magnussen said, his voice still calm, "Absolutely furious. And soon Cyric will be dead. Mycroft knows this, which means Cyric has outlived his usefulness for them. I suspect he is getting too well known." He gently stroked the back of Jim's neck and then asked, "Would you like me to stay tonight? You could sleep here, in Appledore, with me, in my bed?”

“I did it because I didn’t want to let that bastard do it.” He felt conflicted about his own involvement but at least he felt like he’d done everything he could for Sam, short of making an entirely different choice and shooting Moran instead. “Yes, I want you to stay. Please.” Jim reached for his face, found Charles’ mouth and kissed him. He needed to stay with Charles because tonight he felt vulnerable and fatalistic and it was not a good idea to be alone with Sebastian Moran when he was in this headspace. “Do you think I did the right thing?”

"I think you did what you needed to do." Magnussen murmured back, shooting Sebastian a look that made it clear what choice he would have made and kissing Jim back, stroking the back of his head. "Yes, I will stay with you tonight.”

Jim was relieved, he was trying very hard to be good which didn’t come naturally to him at all. “Thank you,” was all Jim said as he leaned in to kiss him again. Sebastian worked quickly and Jim manage to catch a few minutes alone with Sam’s body before they took him outside. “Good dog,” he whispered as he stroked his fur and unlatched his collar. “You were a good dog.” Jim refused to shed any tears over it and he stood solemnly by the little grave, holding Sam’s empty collar in his hand while Sebastian put him in the earth.

Sebastian managed to lower Sam without losing too much dignity, losing it a bit as he covered the body up and tried to at least sniffle quietly. If Magnussen was looking at him in disgust at least Jim wouldn't have to. Jim didn't though, barely looked at him at all, and then they went back to the room, where Magnussen put a hand on Seb's chest outside the door. "You may get one blanket. Sleep outside the door. Good dog." Sebastian bared his teeth, briefly, then stomped off to do as he said and also clean and disinfect his face. He shot a worried look behind as Magnussen gently led Jim into the bedroom, closing and bolting the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Dog is shot and killed.


	8. Tell Him No and Get Your Teeth Knocked In

Jim was sound asleep when he woke up with a mouth pressing between his shoulder blades. He made a confused sound, recognizing Charles’ mouth by the perpetual stubble on his face even while half asleep. It took a few more moments for the memory of the day to him and Jim felt like he’d been hit in the gut. “What’sa matter? You want to go again?” Jim was just a little sore but Charles had been remarkably soft on him, he barely was left with an ache and no bruises.

Magnussen was frowning, talking to someone on the other end of the phone, tight lipped. "Yes, No... alright." He hung up and gave Jim a little kiss on the top of the head. "Nothing, go back to sleep, I need to go into the office. There's been a - no worries." He managed a tight smile, tugging himself out of bed and starting to shrug a shirt on, switching on the side light so he could dress.

Jim opened his eyes blearily, rubbing at them and sitting up a little. He knew better than to ask, if Charles wanted him to know then he would tell him. “It’s so late… it must be important.” Jim wouldn’t try and get him to stay, again, if someone woke him this late it had to be pretty major. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait up for you? I could just put the radio on?” Jim had actually forgotten that Sebastian was sleeping outside in the hall and was imagining being left alone in the house.

"No, don't bother. I won't be back, look after yourself." Magnussen patted him on the head the tugged on trousers. You have Sebastian if you need anything, but you need sleep.”

Jim sighed unhappily when he remembered Sebastian, it wasn’t that he was unhappy about him specifically. It was just like… being comfortable in your own home and then remembering you have a guest to see to. Jim got out of bed and stripped the sheets, they weren’t clean and he didn’t want Sebastian sleeping in here when his bedroom smelled like sex. Jim didn’t want to smell like sex so after he put the sheets in the bathroom laundry bin he showered as quickly as he could. When he came back out he dressed in boxers and then froze, sensing someone in the room a little too late. “Hello? Sebastian?”

Magnussen had given him a kick and told him to go sleep next to the bed and so, irritated, Seb had opened the door and slid inside. He'd frowned at the empty bed, taken the chance to snaffle some pillows and was just rather enjoying that they smelt of Jim when the bathroom door opened. He'd hesitated, forgetting Jim couldn't see, waiting awkwardly and then finally clearing his throat as Jim spoke. "Yeah." He managed, huskily, "'M here. Just on the right side of the bed, don't worry, yeah? You get back to sleep…"

Jim stood there awkwardly, hearing Sebastian’s voice coming from much lower than it normally did. Sitting or lying on the ground probably. It felt… weird knowing he’d been naked and Sebastian hadn’t said anything to let him know he wasn’t alone. Charles hadn’t been joking before about the training. “Help me make the bed. I hate doing it myself.” Jim really did, making a bed alone had been arduous enough when he was sighted, doing it now was just a straight up pain in the arse.

Sebastian stared at him levelly for a moment and then managed a "right." Standing up and passing Jim a dressing gown hanging on the back of the door, "Leave it to me." Slightly clumsily he started making the bed, not really used to doing it. He was Jim's dog and now he was Jim's servant and he wasn’t entirely sure he could manage to be either without breaking something.

“I was going to help…” Jim muttered but let it go. He didn’t see Sebastian pass him the dressing gown but he did startle when he felt the silky material brush his skin. He took it then, feeling along the collar to work out what it was, and then pulled it on after checking for the tag to make sure he wasn’t putting it on inside out. He was covered much better now than he had been just a minute before in just boxers. Jim stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He hadn’t had a conversation with Sebastian since they had fucked on his floor. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you. Apparently you saved my life so… now we can be even.” Why did their relationship always seem to be about checks and balances? It was like each time Jim paid a debt or had a debt paid, he was ready to end their relationships and then something or usually someone came along and threw them out of whack again.

"Even?" Sebastian muttered dully. "Beds made. Just about." He sat back down on the floor and gave a sneer at it, "I've just watched you shoot Sam, so that I could take his place - now I'm apparently your dog, and Magnussen's slave and I do whatever either of you fucking orders or I get my kneecaps broken. Yeah. That sounds even. Just about.”

Jim sighed and sort of gave up. He didn’t have the energy to argue and every time someone said _you shot Sam_ Jim just couldn’t help but deflate inside, even if he wouldn’t show it. “Don’t sleep on the floor, it’s ridiculous. Sheets are clean, there’s no reason you should wake up with a crick in your neck.” Jim patted down his end of the bed and noticed something missing. “Besides, you’ve taken all of my pillows. If you want to die so badly go shoot yourself, I’m sure you could find a gun around here.”

Sebastian laughed at that, tilting his head back and honestly laughing, "Kill myself? Ohhhh no. That's not how it works. You know. You know you're going to die. You want to die, you crave it just to stop the fucking constant terror that haunts you every bloody day out in the field, but you never, ever turn the trigger on yourself, alright soldier? You can't wank your own death. 'S got to be another hand, even if they're pushed. Besides, if I really wanted to die I'd do something simple, like getting into bed with you, holding your hot little body into the sheets, and making you cum till your eyes crossed. I'd be dead before Magnussen stepped through the door.”

“I’m not a solider. I’m a whore, remember? What do I have to be afraid of.” He really wasn’t sure why Sebastian was lecturing him so Jim just curled up in his bed, pulling one of Charles’ pillows over to his side. “I didn’t tell you to get in the bed so that you could fuck me, I just want to sleep.”

"Then fucking sleep." Sebastian snapped from the floor, "I'm not coming up there for your fucking gratification, bad enough I’m down here for CAMs." Tugging the blanket over himself he buried his face in the Jim-smelling pillow and closed his eyes, trying not to see Sam dropping in the afterimage in his mind.

Jim sniffed and curled around the pillow, hating any weakness in himself. He wanted to be older and indestructible. Words wouldn’t normally hurt him but there was already a gaping hole in his armor and everything felt like salt getting rubbed in the wound. He’d thought he’d done the right thing but now he was faced with the fact that he’d killed his dog in exchange for someone who did not want to live, who was resentful and ungrateful and apparently hated him. He laid there for a few minutes, discovered he couldn’t sleep, and eventually got up and left the room to go listen to the radio.

Sebastian couldn't sleep either, closing his eyes meant seeing Sam, opening them meant thinking about the shitty state his life was now in. He groaned as Jim left the room, picking up the blanket and trailing after him in blanket and boxer shorts, stifling a yawn, "S' only me. Sam would follow you, so I should. Fucking Christ..." he hesitated and then asked, a little gentler. "You... alright? In the bedroom. Magnussen didn't... hurt you did he? Didn't fucking like watching him lock you in there.”

Charles was controlling his pain pills… part of it was practicality because Jim had an abusive personality and would have happily gotten fucked up out of his mind and taken too many and not had enough later when he needed them but it was also abnormal, Jim knew, and he had no idea where he was stashing them… probably on his person. “If you want to stand there and make idiotic assumptions about my sex life go ahead and continue to do so, if you want to be useful then get me a drink.” Jim really wasn’t supposed to be drinking too much with the head injury but one drink would be okay. “No, he didn’t hurt me. I seriously don’t understand where you get these ideas from. What part of today made him look abusive?”

"I'm not making idiotic assumptions." Sebastian snapped, going to the drawer and looking for alcohol, pouring Jim out a gin and tonic and handing it over. "He hurts you, and he uses you and he pimps you. I'm meant to be looking out for you and fuck..." He poured out a neat gin and tossed it down, scrubbing a hand over his face and then leaning against the counter, shoulders high, head dropped. "Fuck you shouldn't have had to do that..." he murmured, "Not to Sam, not you, not like that. Thank you. For... for not shooting me. When you had every last fucking reason to do so." He poured another gin, gulped it down, "'S gonna make me feel very, very bad about drinking myself to fucking death.”

“Baseless accusations.” Jim threw back, not at all liking that there was some truth to what Sebastian said, but he had no way of knowing that. He’d just _guessed_ and it burned Jim that a year ago he would have been right. Charles didn’t pimp him out anymore, and Jim had agreed to it every time of his own will, and he got paid very well for it. Charles was too selfish to share Jim unless he didn’t have anything else to bargain with or it was the quickest way to get what he wanted. He didn’t do it anymore though, not because he’d had some change of heart but because Jim had proven he was more useful in other places. Charles had hurt him some at first but Jim had learned to love it, to ask for it. Their relationship wasn’t at all what Sebastian was assuming. Jim settled on the couch with his drink, sipping at it more slowly because he knew he shouldn’t have more than one. “You don’t need to look out for me with Charles. He takes better care of me than anyone else. You need to look out for my father and for Mycroft and anyone else that tries to fuck with me.” He was quiet as Sebastian seemed to break down, Jim was locked up too tight to share in his sentiments much. “It was the logical thing to do. I should have shot both of you just to stick it to Mycroft but I’ve got a little sense along with the pride. Something you seem to lack.”

"Yeah well..." Sebastian scrubbed at his face again, pouring out another gin but this time coming to sit next to the couch, resting his back along the front of it and sighing. "I'll look after you for your father, for Mycroft for anyone else. But don't think I'm turning my back on that bastard. He'll hurt you, and next time he does, I'll fucking break his nose. Don't care what he does to me.”

“You absolutely will not.” Jim said, feeling a little tired of this old argument. He heard Sebastian come over and felt the couch move a little as he leaned against it. “Sam always liked him, and he was an excellent judge of character.” He leaned to the side and rested against a pillow with his head on the plush arm rest of the couch. “Did I tell you about how I lost my sight?” Jim knew he hadn’t, he didn’t like to talk about it but it felt appropriate given their conversation and what had had happened earlier today.

Sebastian hesitated and gave him a sideways look, not sure if he wanted to hear the story. But he did, of course, he needed to know how much of a threat it posed, if there was someone else he should know about, or if there was an interaction he needed to understand. "Never really wondered." He lied, "'S your story. But... yeah. Thanks.”

“Course it’s my story, or someone else would be telling it.” He muttered, feeling waspish and prickly. Sebastian’s sentiment had been nice but Jim was just feeling offended by everything. “The incident itself wasn’t that interesting, I was fifteen, da got drunk — he pushed me down the stairs. Hard enough that I didn’t really hit the stairs much, I just sort of… fell to the ground floor and across the bottom steps. Long drop. There’s nothing wrong with my eyes, I hit the back of my head — that’s the place your eyes and the optic nerve send signals to. I have brain damage, and now my orbital lobe doesn’t process the signals anymore. There was a chance my vision could have come back but,” Jim shrugged easily, not bothered by it, “Never happened. The point was after, hours later when he sobered up and called an ambulance because my crying was getting annoying, he brought me into work with him a few days later. I was stumbling around, face all bruised from our fight before the stairs, arm in a cast and bandages around my head… I didn’t have a cane or a dog or anything and I was terrified because I couldn’t see. Charles came up and when he realized the extent of the damage he was… so angry. I’ve never seen him like that. He just started _screaming_ at him and — anyway, he took me back here and a couple days later brought someone who trained blind people how to function and get around. Charles brought me Sam and I lived here with him for a while, until I was old enough to move out and he bought me the stone building I live in now. Charles doesn’t treat me like I’m disabled. He’s not a bad person. Not to me.”

"He doesn't treat you like you're disabled." Sebastian agreed after a pause of listening, of taking it all in, and of wanting to pretty much murder Moriarty on the stop. "But he doesn't treat you like a proper fucking person either. You're his thing. 'S fine. 'S not bad. But if he says jump you say 'how high...’" He hesitated then raised his glass up towards Jim, squinting through it at the light. "You want to know how a man treats you, how he really treats you? Refuse him. Just once. Say no. Then you'll find out. Then you'll know exactly what he treats you like." He brought the glass back down to his lips and took a sip.

“I’m not his pet.” Jim disagreed, “Believe it or not I’m really not his fucking puppet. I’m his partner, sure he calls shots over what we do together but I still call the shots for me. You think I would have done… what I did with you if I was obedient and did everything he told me?” He shrugged and wasn’t really bothered by Sebastian’s assessment of things, although a small voice in his head questioned why he was feeling so defensive. “Everyone jumps for Magnussen, that’s how he is.”

"So? So when did you refuse him?" Sebastian answered, tilting his head back and tipping the rest of the gin down the front of his naked chest, knowing Jim couldn't see. "When did you say to him, "No Charles. Not tonight." You ever do that? /\ _He_ knows. Your little rentboy. He knows. Paul, whatever the fuck his name is. He'll tell you what Mags is really like only he's too fucking afraid and doesn't want to rock the boat. You're not his partner, don't make me laugh. He's never seen you as a partner in his life.”

“Yeah, and so what? Everybody’s somebody’s superior. Society is a fucking joke, if you’re a negro? A woman? Homosexual? Disabled? Like fuck you’ll find any respect. I’ve earned mine, so what if we aren’t fucking equals. There’s no such thing in this world anyway, best to accept it and work hard enough that one day you’re the man with a shoe pressed against someone’s throat.” He drained the rest of his drink and set the glass down on the end table. “You do realize the vast majority of the time I’m the one coming onto him, and the rest of the time I’m plenty up for it too. That’s not really an issue. I know Mags is fucking awful, but he’s good to _me_ and that’s all that matters right now. Not much more you can ask for. Or do you have some wonderful advice for me besides, _tell him no and get your teeth knocked in.”_

"Yeah it's normal." Sebastian said quietly. "'S normal for there to be strong men and weak ones. 'S normal for some people to be on the scrapheap while others lord it over. I used to be that lord and now I'm on the fucking scrapheap so don't talk to me about it." He pushed himself upright, draining the last drops in his glass and sighing. "It's normal as fuck for one man to have a boot pressed against another. What's not normal, is for the man trapped below, the man beaten and used and starving, to reach up and smile. To call the other his lover. That's not fucking right and it's not fucking good for you. It's not an issue because he's trained you to like it, because you're young and horny and willing. But what you have is not a fucking relationship, do you think I don't know?" He whirled around, suddenly furious. "Do you think I haven't had rent boys and eager young pliable things, and fucked up stupid kids wanting to get with an old ex-soldier? You think I haven't used men? I have, and I _fucking_ enjoyed it and you, James Moriarty are a used man.”

Jim sat quietly stunned, trying to keep his hands still and his anger in check. If he could, he would slap the shit out of him but instead he stood and said, “You’re jealous that you are never going to have someone want you, that you’re going to be unfulfilled and always have to pay for it, or threaten or hurt someone until they give it to you and your pissed that there are people that give it willingly, when that person has earned it. I’m going to bed, you can sleep on the couch.” Jim stormed off to his room as quickly as he could manage and he bolted the door behind him.

"Think that if you like." Sebastian murmured quietly, chasing after him in a sloppy staggering way as Jim went back to the room and groaning as the door bolted, "Shit, Jim..." he called, knocking and then sliding down against it. Tugging the blanket up around to his neck he drifted off again the door, sliding down in the night and waking to Magnussen's boot pressed against his chest, the toe pushing under his chin.

A soft menacing voice whispered, "well? Explain?”

Jim had ignored Sebastian when he called and banged on the door but he hadn’t been able to sleep. All he could think about was Sebastian’s words and Sam’s blood splashing across his face. He’d been curled up in the window seat with the window open and a lit cigarette in his hand when he heard Charles’ expensive Italian shoes tapping down the hallway on the hardwood floors. Jim put out his cigarette, quickly unbolted the door and then tripped and almost fell on a warm body stretched out in front of the door. “Ow — the fuck? Shit, sorry.” Jim flushed, embarrassed anytime he tripped or looked ungraceful because someone had moved furniture around or didn’t tidy up or _slept on the floor._ “Charles?”

"James." Magnussen helped him up gently and then turned right back to Sebastian, bending down and holding his chin while Sebastian glared up at him. "What is he doing out here? Did he do something inappropriate, say something? Why did you send him out?” He moved his hand and then gave Seb an insultingly light slap across the face, catching the edge of the gun bruises, "I can't give you a dog that misbehaves.”

Jim paused, trying to think quickly through the haze of exhaustion and discomfort from his injury. “He — snores. Something to do with the swelling in his face I think. It was unbearable so I told him to sleep outside. He wasn’t misbehaving, just doing what I told him.” Jim reached for Charles’ wrist and squeezed invitingly, “I took the pills you gave me before you left… they wore off a long time ago. Do you have anything for me?” Jim had taken the bandages off to give the wound some time to air and heal.

Magnussen looked at him, distracted. "No... it's fine. Cyric is dead. Can you go back to the London house now? Sebastian will take you." He gave Jim a distracted kiss and then walked into the room, picking up some files and folders before raising his voice, "The dog can wash outside, I don't want him in this shower.”

“Get dressed and ready to go, you can shower at my place.” Jim hissed at Sebastian before going into the bedroom again and shutting the door. He gave Charles space and went through his drawer in Charles’ dresser for something clean to wear that didn’t have his dog’s blood on it. “Charles… I know you are busy, but I really need my pills if I’m going home.” Jim’s voice was firm, he didn’t want to take too much, he just needed to stop the aching and the pounding.

Magnussen gave him a slightly annoyed glance and then stepped forward, taking Jim's hands and opening them, putting two more pills into them, "There you go. I will find you before you need more, please don't worry. Take care of yourself, recover. When you are ready you will need to get a new dog, and you will need to train it. And then... then we can discuss your new role in the company, the casino's you are going to run for me, yes?”

Jim closed his hand around the little pills and relaxed, hoping that Charles was telling the truth about giving him more later. “I’m ready as soon as a school can be contacted. It took two weeks of training at the school last time before they would let me take Sam home, you can afford to have me gone for that long?” He swallowed the pills and went back to getting dressed.

"I'll have to." Magnusson said, a little quietly and distantly. "Please do not fuck Sebastian Moran while you're away. I will find out and I will hurt him. A lot." Taking the folders he kissed Jim's forehead and then grabbed Seb's hair and tugged it. "Keep him safe. Take him back to his house. Both of you stay in there." And then he was gone.

Jim frowned as Charles kissed him but he didn’t argue because he was being pushed out the door. He normally might have tried to be flirtatious and tease and reassure Charles but he was obviously in a hurry so Jim just let it go and walked out towards Sebastian. “…come on then. There should be a driver waiting for us. He doesn’t like me taking cabs and accepting rides from strangers. Naughty things can happen in the back seat.” Jim rolled his eyes and led the way outside, with Sam’s collar in his hand. He didn’t really know what he would do with it. It was still hitting him that the dog was gone. “Charles is going to send me away to get a new dog soon… you’ll probably have to come with me. Then I don’t know what he’ll do with you.”

Sebastian followed him, tugging on his old trousers but leaving the top off because if had Sam's blood on it. He walked shirtless into the waiting car, tattoos showing, uncaring, helping Jim in and then sitting in the back seat next to him. "I know what he'll do." He murmured, not wanting to elaborate as the car drove away. "Although it depends on how well behaved I've been with you.”

“There are worse things than working for Charles,” Jim said, getting a little sick of Sebastian’s ungrateful attitude. He was happy to take their money and their whores when he felt like he was in control but as soon as the curtain was pulled back and he couldn’t pretend like he was making the choice he got all fussy. Sebastian was the one who approached CAM in the first place. “He’s better than Holmes, and there’s plenty of money and whores in it for you.”

"Better than Holmes?" Sebastian gave a sneer, and then remembered he was meant to hate Holmes and that he still did want to kill him. He was miserable though, drunk and scared and angry, "Oh yeah, much better. He's never made anyone shoot their dog, or their wife. Such a sweetie." The driver glanced back at him in the mirror and he slumped sulkily back. "Whatever. Yeah, I guess. Let's just get you home, that's my job, that's what I'm doing.”

“Your attitude is really shit,” Jim muttered, none too pleased with having Sebastian work for him so far. “You were the one that wanted to play with the big boys, you can’t cry about it when you get in over your head.” Yes. Home. Then he could lay in bed and pretend he was alone while he sat in the dark and tried to keep away from any illegal substances or alcohol. Brilliant.

"I can absolutely panic about being over my head." Sebastian muttered back, not answering, just spreading out, half naked and half hungover, giving a wink to the taxi driver, who curled his lip and stuck two fingers up at him in the mirror, mouthing an uncomplimentary word.

There was quiet a distance between Jim’s house and Charles’, but they did make it. Jim knew the cab would already be paid for so he didn’t have to bother with trying to figure out notes when he couldn’t read. He led Sebastian inside before taking a breath and starting on some rules. “Look, if you are going to be here you have to put everything back exactly where you found it. If you leave a chair not pushed in, I _will_ trip over it. If you leave something out on the counter, it’s very possible I will knock it over. When you need to lead me somewhere don’t ever grab me or move me unless I’m about to hurt myself or walk into traffic. It messes up my balance. Otherwise just stick out your arm and I will grab it, then you can lead me. You need to tell me when you’re in a room, I can’t always tell. Tell me when someone else comes in and when they leave, who it is. Telling me any nonverbal communication helps too. I think that’s everything. I have some money in my wallet, why don’t you shower and then leave to go buy yourself some clothes. I know you don’t have a bag or a home anymore.”

Sebastian listened to the rules and then shrugged, "Yeah, I understand. I'll behave, don't you worry." It came out slightly bitter, "Don't need any more clothes, I can wear this. Shower would be good though, given I still smell of your dog's fucking blood." He almost managed to stop his breath hitching, but not quite, standing in the corner of the living room, hands still crossed defensively across his chest.

Jim grit his teeth tight but he wasn’t so weak that he had to ask Sebastian to quit saying it. “Its own the hall, I’m sure you can find it. Are you just planning to walk around without a shirt on for the foreseeable future? You know, it’s none of my business. I’m going to try and sleep.”

"If you go sleep, I should probably be curled up next to the damn bed." Sebastian snapped, trailing after him, "Don't even know if there's any fucking point buying a shirt, not if Mags wants to keep me." He gave a deeper scowl. He wasn't scared, he wouldn’t let himself be, but Magnussen was not someone he wanted with that much power over him, especially not if he felt he needed payback. "You just get to sleep alright? And don't die or anything or I'll be fucked.”

“Oh my god…!” Jim groaned dramatically and tossed his head back to look up at the ceiling for effect. “You are seriously bumming me out. Mags will not pimp you. He literally does not have a single whore with your build, no one wants to fuck a tank while he glares resentfully at the wall and threatens to knock their teeth out. You are petrified because you’re scared Mags will get people to treat you the way that you’ve treated others, I get that, but I will kick you if you don’t stop bitching. You are not sleeping on the floor, sleep on the couch. I don’t want you in my room or in the hallway for me to trip on again. Did you miss the part where I said don’t leave shit lying around? That includes your unconscious body. Now take a fucking shower, you stink.”

"It's easy for you, you're fucking used to being a whore." Sebastian snapped, knowing it was unfair even as he said it, "You're used to not knowing who's going to fuck you, used to having CAMs dick screwing you, this is all fucking new for me, and you're _damn_ right I'm afraid of being treated the way I've treated whores because I know how fucking awful they had it." Storming out of Jim's room he headed for the shower, turning it on cold and standing underneath it with his trousers still on, fists clenched and glaring at the wall.

Jim was going to kick him, he _really_ was, but then Sebastian’s footsteps stormed off and a few moments later he heard the shower start up. Jim left in his own huff and slammed and locked his bedroom door before stripping off all his clothes and crawling into bed, looking for some privacy and maybe sleep. Sebastian would be fine on his own for a bit but if Jim tripped on him again because he was sleeping on the floor Jim was going to scream.

He stayed in the shower until he started crying, hot messy tears that could get lost in the water spray and nobody would ever know had happened. His crash in circumstances, fear of Mags (when had he started being afraid? He'd never been afraid before), terror of what Mags could do to him, and of course Sam’s death all mixed together. He came out when the water got too cold, switching it off and shivering, tugging his sodden trousers off and curling up in a blanket on the sofa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: None?


	9. He is a Gun and a Fist

Jim learned to pull himself together very quickly because the next day Jim and Sebastian were on a plane to Germany. They had been there for almost a week, Jim was introduced to several of the school’s best dogs and his instructors were hoping to get him matched up soon and have him go through the training as soon as possible because Charles wanted him back. They had tentatively settled on another Shepard, black this time, or so he was told. Her name was Annika and Jim was now working with her every day and making sure that they were compatible. It was slow going sometimes and Jim had to learn quite a lot of German to speak with her and give the dog direction and commands, but overall it was going rather well and they expected to pass the training within the next few days. Jim was terribly tired of Sebastian’s eternal sulking and so eventually he had smacked the back of his head and told him they were going out for a nice dinner at a restaurant that Charles recommended. Jim could tell it was much nicer just from the… ambiance. He couldn’t see, but all of the patrons spoke quietly in soft cultured tones and there was live music playing. Jim took Sebastian’s arm carefully as they were led to their seats. He’d needed just a little bit of help dressing — the bowtie was tricky and not something he did often enough that Jim could do it without his sight so Sebastian had helped him instead.

Sebastian had bought clothes eventually, as they wouldn't let him on the plane without them, but he still stayed in a fairly dark mood the whole way. He brightened up a bit as they met the dogs, as Jim started to get used to his new companion, and as they were now in a different country to Magnussen. Going out made a different as well as he found himself relaxing at the restaurant, occasionally glancing at Jim. Magnussen had called the day before and Sebastian hadn't been allowed to listen in, but Jim still looked relaxed which was good. "S'nice." he eventually said grudgingly, "It's been a while since I've been out somewhere.”

“That’s because you are poor now. I’m sure running home to daddy has passed through your mind once or twice.” Jim reached out carefully for his wine glass and carefully sipped at it, enjoying the flavors while they waited for their entrees. “What do you think of Annika? You’re supposed to be the expert.” In the end Jim’s opinion was the only one that mattered but he figured it was as good a conversation point as any.

Sebastian glowered as, once again, Jim snapped at him, regretting trying to be momentarily nice. "I've been poor before you little shit. But even as a policeman I used to damn well go out. Not stay locked up in a house with a pissy kid and a crime lord." The dog was a better topic and he gave a smile, "She's lovely. Beautiful creature, loyal, and sweet. Good choice.”

 _“Sweet_ yes, that’s the word. Not sure how much use she’ll be for protection but… it’s not normal for guide dogs to act out like that anyway.” Jim still found it painful to talk about Sam so he avoided saying his name at the very least. “Yes, I’m sure you were very poor collecting checks from the government, Holmes and Charles. I think our definitions of poor are different.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, remembering Jim couldn't see his expression and so taking a few moments to get things under control. "Well, I'm sorry I’ve never been living in the gutter - I'm sorry I’ve never been drinking my own piss for sustenance. You win. Your life is harder and more pathetic and shittier than mine. Well done. Have a fucking star."

“Don’t be a bitch,” Jim criticized quietly. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m _not_ living in the gutter, and I’m drinking this fine chianti. My life is not pathetic or shitty although I’ll concede that I do face different challenges than most people. It’s all a matter of perspective. If you want to be more, then you have to rise up and prove yourself and I think you have more to offer than your skills as a body guard. At least I hope so, for your sake.”

"Yeah? What skills do you think Mags wants me for?” Sebastian muttered, gulping down the Chianti and giving Jim an unhappy look, once again pleased he couldn't see Seb looking so pathetic. "Course I want to be more, but more what? I was a shitty son, then I was a shitty policeman, now I'm a shitty bodyguard and if I stick a hair out of line Mags'll use me for a shitty prostitute. Maybe I could be a fucking concert violinist but it's not going to fucking happen now, is it?”

Jim no longer tried to assuage Sebastian’s fears about the prostitution, he wasn’t going to waste his breath anymore when it was so obvious the man was determined to terrify himself. “What did you do in the military?” Jim asked, noticing that as the one thing left off Sebastian’s list of shitty life choices. He was good at seeing potential in others, sure right now Sebastian was less than promising with that attitude but there was potential there.

Sebastian gave a grin at the plate, cheering up a little at that. "I shot people. I was fucking good at it. Northern Ireland, Serbia, Afghanistan - got around a bit. They discharged me eventually." He gave a short laugh that wasn't very humorous. "Apparently you can be too violent for the army, who knew? Gave me a good track record for getting into the police though - even if they stopped me shooting things.”

Jim nodded, “Mags has a division for that. They don’t see a ton of action because he prefers other methods but if you’re as good as you say I’m sure we could find a place there for you.” There. See? Positive outlook and give him a carrot to chase and watch him dance. Jim wasn’t lying about the assassinations but his main goal was to stop Sebastian’s doom and gloom because it was fucking annoying. They brought their food and Jim spent a full minute just smelling the food, trying to pick out the ingredients from just smell.

Sebastian dug in watching Jim looking at the food before saying quietly, "Of course. For you that's a good idea isn't it. Working up through Mags's system. That's what you think security is. But it's not. Look - I know you think I'm worrying about nothing, but there is literally nothing except his good mood stopping Mags from beating me senseless and chaining me to a wall next to your friend Paul. I know he'd do it because I've fucking seen him do things like that. And it doesn't matter whether I'm your pet dog or his right hand sniper. It's still something that could happen at any time. There's no... there's nothing I could do to stop it. To prevent it. It's the fucking worse thing I can imagine and it could happen at any time. It’s - fuck. It's hard to explain. But while I'm working for Mags I've got that hanging over my head. Besides. I'd rather be your dog than his sniper. Quite like you.”

Jim smirked at Sebastian, a little amused that they could come to such different conclusions. “Yes it was a good idea, and it has worked out pretty splendidly for me. And it is security, you’ve seen me in enough shit to know what I do — Call Mags. He takes care of it, no fuss, and I don’t have to get my hands dirty. Paul isn’t chained to a wall, don’t be dramatic. Maybe you should think about becoming an actor. Right now you are letting fear cloud your judgment. You could die at any time, you never know. No one ever knows. It’s best to just accept it and learn to live in a way that keeps you as safe as possible — Same with Charles.” Jim snorted, “No you don’t, you hate me. You’re just trying to earn your own security. You don’t need to play games with me like that. You have to remember I’ve already played them all myself.” Jim took his first bite and luxuriated in the taste.

"Worked out well? That's what I'm trying to say. It'll work splendidly until Mags decides he doesn't want it to. Maybe you can live like that. I can't. If someone's going to slap me I’d rather they fucking did it rather than just promise me it _might not happen_ if I'm good." He shook his head and sighed, "Mags is not your friend. He uses you. And Paul isn't chained but they'd have to fucking chain me because otherwise I'll kill anyone who tried to fuck me. 'S not about dying. I'm not afraid of death." He raised an eyebrow as Jim continued, "I don't hate you. Why would I hate you?”

Jim shrugged, “I went from a situation where I was very certainly going to be killed to knowing that I will only be killed if I really really fuck up. I played the system. Those sound like much better odds to me and they are the best that you will ever get in this world. I’m not sure what you thought would happen when you started taking back hands from the two biggest names in organized crime in London. You are right, Mags isn’t my friend, he’d my lover and we both use each other. That’s what relationships are. And I remember you being pretty eager for it when I was stoned, I’m very sure I didn’t imagine that. And Darren certainly didn’t have to chain you down. You’d learn, and comply eventually because I think deep down even if you aren’t afraid of death you really want to live.” Jim took another bite while he thought about how to explain why he thought Sebastian hated him. “Dunno. Most people aren’t so bitchy around people they like. And I have power over you, I can’t imagine you’re thrilled about that.”

"I'd learn and comply eventually." Sebastian repeated bitterly, shaking his head. "You see, you tell me not to be fucking scared and then you manage to fucking spell out the very thing I'm scared of. Mention Darren again and I'll slap you." Jim was understanding him so well, while at the same time apparently completely oblivious to him, and it made him jumpy. "You do not have a _relationship_ with Mags, for fucks sake. You both use each other - I mean can you fucking hear yourself? Mags shouts and you jump, and you've convinced yourself that what's really happening is he's preempting your desire to jump. Jim - I know he made your life better. I know it was shite and rough before. But you have to see that he's got you controlled and housetrained and if he even _thinks_ his hold on you is slipping he'll fucking snap you like a twig." He shrugged at Jim's words on him. "I'm not thrilled. I'm pissed about it. But it's hardly your fault. And like I said. I quite like you.”

Jim smiled a little, evilly, as all of his little comments hit home and he psychologically toyed with Sebastian like a cat with a mouse between his paws. This mouse he was planning to let go though, so he didn’t take it any further. “I think we are going to agree to disagree but another point of view on what you just said was that he’s known me for ten years, Charles knows me very well because he’s intelligent and perceptive and we spend time together. If I told you that you would like my salad, because I know that you like salads, and I said _take a bite_ would you say that you’re controlled and house trained and following my will? Don’t be ridiculous. He doesn’t need to worry about me defecting and he knows that because he’s always going to make the better offer.” Jim finished his wine and gesture for Sebastian to pour him another glass. He was enjoying drinking again now that his head wound was really on the mend. “You’re making me blush.” He muttered dryly when Sebastian insisted again that he liked Jim. 

"If I couldn't eat until you told me - maybe I would think that." Sebastian answered shortly, "maybe even if you always made sure to tell me enough so I wouldn't starve, I'd still be controlled. Even if you gave me nice fucking salads. I don't even like salad." He sighed and poured the wine, grinning as Jim spoke, "Yeah well. I won't convince you either way, will I? But just so you know, that's why I'm trying to stay out of his clutches for as long as possible. I know it's inevitable, but I’ve got some pride."

“He’s not exactly got me running around with a chastity belt on. Maybe then I would agree with you, if he told me that I could only have sex with him. But I’m allowed to do just about whatever I want and most marriages don’t have so much freedom. It’s just he doesn’t want me being abused by rough whore-beating ex-soldiers. He knows fucking better than to tell me he’s the only person I can be with. I wouldn’t have to tell him no, I wouldn’t have to leave him, all I’d have to do is remind him that I’m too much to handle – he doesn’t have the physical time and energy to keep up. So I get to do what I want.” Jim gave a little wink and pushed out his wine glass. “More please. And don’t say that like I haven’t got pride.” Suddenly Jim felt someone’s presence very close to him and he tensed up in response, confused as he was overwhelmed with a strong smelling cologne.

“Jim? You’re Charles’ boy, aren’t you? Good God, what are you doing here? And who is your – er… companion? Oh, forgive me. You wouldn’t recognize me, of course. Laurence Wilkinson, does that ring any bells? We had a brief affair… summer, I think… two, three years ago?” Jim smiled automatically and basically transformed before Sebastian’s eyes to someone who seemed younger, more inviting, and soft. “Oh yes, of course I remember. Laurence, I believe you were visiting Charles from America, is that right?” Jim knew it was.

Sebastian gave a growl at the man, calming a little as Jim knew him and raising an eyebrow. He gave the man a glower but stayed silent, not stupid enough to be that unprofessional. This was clearly business, and that was for Jim to handle, however much he might not like it. Picking up the wine, he leant back, watching and listening but not taking part, making it clear this was Jim's work, and that he'd follow the lead of the other.

Jim didn’t pay Sebastian any mind, he had to focus and concentrate and try and remember a cover story and identity he held three years ago. “Yes that’s right! Smart! I’m humbled that you can remember me, since you’re blind and all, and given how briefly we were together and it’s been such a long time.” He sort of drawled in his American accent. The man was from New York City and Jim thought he talked too fast. “So are you still with him? Charles?”

Jim paused for a long moment before finally nodding, “Yes yes, I have moved up some in the world but I do work for Charles. That’s why I am here actually.” No details.

“Oh… lucky man.” Laurence sighed heavily. Jim could sort of tell that the man had put on more weight, he didn’t remember him sounding that heavy in his steps and his breathing and voice.

Jim shook his head meekly before speaking, “What brings you here then?” Jim asked.

"Oh business, you know..." Laurence gave a little chuckle, fondly patting Jim on the head, before glancing at Sebastian, "You certainly have gone up in the world. You didn't have a chaperone last time I knew you. Would your... chaperone be too offended if we maybe had a private little meal sometime this week? I'm here for a while and it would be lovely to catch up again." He gave a fond smile, "You lovely boy... you haven't changed, you know, you still look beautiful. Hauntingly so."

Jim didn’t like being touched, especially when he couldn’t see it coming. His hands and fingers felt larger and more swollen than Jim remembered. He didn’t comment on the chaperone but nodded demurely, “You are too kind. Of course I would love to catch up…” Jim gave him their hotel and room number so that Laurence could call and make an appointment. He wasn’t sure what to do so he’d have to talk with Charles. Fucking wonderful.

Sebastian gave Laurence a scowl as he arranged a date, more so as he petted Jim and murmured, "I'll have to get you a present - something beautiful, of course, I'll find a space in my diary. Ciao - and maybe tell your bodyguard to look a little less intimidating."

He walked off and as soon as he was out of earshot Sebastian leaned forward, "who was that, what did he want? Why are you meeting him? Does Mags know?"

Jim was trying to keep his face placid and happy because he had no way of knowing if Laurence was still watching him from a distance. “I said his name several times. He’s one of Charles’ major contacts in America. Old business partners. He wants to meet with me and apparently give me a present, I thought that was fairly obvious, and I’m meeting him because he’s important enough that I can’t afford to offend him. No, Charles doesn’t know because I haven’t called him in the last ten seconds since Laurence left. I’ll talk to him later. And finally I don’t keep you around to be my secretary and keep my rolodex, now pour me some fucking wine before I throw the glass at your head.”

"He's fucked off." Sebastian snapped, guessing Jim wasn't sure if the man was in earshot. "He's at the other end of the restaurant, glancing over a few times, won't be able to hear us, seems busy with his fucking filofax." He scowled, "I know you haven't called Charles, he might have arranged it or something. He told you a whole load of stuff before you left 'play nice with this fat German dipshit' might have been one of them, I don't know." He poured another glass for Jim, filling it up a little higher.

Jim kept the smile on his face when he heard that Laurence was still glancing over. Fucking wonderful. “He’s American and no, Charles didn’t send me to play with him, I don’t do shit like that anymore.” Whoops. Too much wine made Jim reveal a little more information than he had meant to. Sebastian was going to forever lord this over Jim’s head now. “Call for the cheque now.” Jim tested the weight of the glass before drinking the whole thing down in just a few moments. It was a faux pas in a place this nice to guzzle down his wine like it was water in the desert but Jim was feeling pretty unhappy. “What’s got your panties all in a bunch, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

"Jealous?" Sebastian said, sounding shocked and disbelieving. "Sorry - I look out for you, watch out for you, and then have to sit back and let you be picked up by some creepy fat bastard who _clearly_ wants in your pants and not very gently at that, and you think I'm _jealous?_ Is that the fucking only -" His voice was raised and he lowered it, hissing across at Jim, "Is that literally the only emotion you think people feel for you - desire to have sex with you? Did it not occur to you I might be worried for you? Angry at him? Pissed off that we're now missing dessert? Fucking cheque please."

“Don’t be dramatic. He knows better than to try anything off the books.” Jim hoped so at least. Charles would never allow it, he didn’t want anyone else to have Jim’s ass for money anymore, which was a fucking relief. “Right, sorry, it’s just that you’ve never demonstrated any emotion for me besides a desire to have sex with me, sorry if misunderstood that, no, it didn’t occur to me.” Jim let Sebastian handle the money because he could actually see the notes. He didn’t really care if he was stolen from or the possibility of that. Jim wanted to leave and have some space and time to himself.

Sebastian counted out the money and scowled at the confused waiter, helping Jim out and leaning down to professionally murmur, "Laurence is waving at you and giving you a smile as you leave." If he was meant to be a seeing-eye person he could at least do his job. He ignored everything else Jim had said - trying to get Jim to see how Mags was using him was clearly a lost cause and it would just cause them to argue. He filed away though, the confirmation that Jim had been Mags's whore before they'd been exclusive.

Jim smiled and gave a little wave in what he hoped was the general direction that Laurence stood in. Fuck. He had not liked that smarmy bastard back when he’d been young and impressionable and Charles had still been breaking him in. “Thank you,” Jim breathed as they left the restaurant. Finally they got to a cab and it was quiet all the way back to the hotel.

 

* * *

 

 

Jim filled the bath tub and then called Charles, sitting under the bubbles with the phone cradled carefully in one hand while it rang. He heard a click, they exchange pleasantries and then Jim brought up the topic at hand. “You’ll never believe who I ran into. Your friend Laurence. He wants to see me for dinner or lunch, I told him yes but I wanted to bring it up with you. What should I do?” Jim couldn’t fuck up their present arrangement.

Magnussen hesitated as Jim spoke to him, clearly considering the situation. "You should see him." He said finally. "He's important and an asset. Keep him happy, you do not have to do anything you don't want to but please, keep him happy." There was a brief pause and then he finished with "Make sure Sebastian comes with you. Try and let him do what he wants, as far as you can. How is your new dog coming along?"

Jim thought that was a little dubious. He didn’t want to even _see_ the man but Charles apparently was going to insist on that. Jim didn’t want to ask for clarification on what ‘let him do what he wants, as far as you can’ meant. It could be something as innocent as a kiss and… really the sky was the limit to what this man could want. Jim wasn’t naïve enough to believe the ceiling was penetrative sex. “Right, cause all Sebastian wants to do is listen to me boinking your business partner in the next room…” Jim grumbled a little but he saw the wisdom of bringing Sebastian along. “What’s my story then? I told him I was still working for you, but if you remember the last time he had me you told him I was just a whore that worked for you. The dog is good, we can probably come home in a few days. They tell me that we are bonding very well, although I think it’s a little ridiculous I had to learn German so I could talk to a dog. Still, I do appreciate having the best.” Of course the dogs here were trained in German so Jim had spent an afternoon learning the commands he would need to give her.

"Sebastian will do what he has to." Magnussen snapped, "You are not to start putting my business relationships at risk just to save his delicate sensibilities. He will have to get used to a lot worse. Yes, tell him you are still working for me, still as a whore, there is no need to change that, I don't want him thinking he can get to me through you."

Jim frowned and adjusted, making the water splash around a little. “You don’t need to go ape on me, I was only teasing. Like fuck I actually feel bad for him in this situation, he’s hardly martyring himself over here. You sound tense, is everything okay?” Jim’s tone got a little lower and he grinned mischievously, letting it color his voice. “Do you miss me? I’ve been gone for a while. Or have you been entertaining yourself with other people while I’m away?” Jim was… unusually good at managing Charles, maneuvering him when Mycroft Holmes couldn’t claim the same. That wasn’t to say it was easy, or that it always worked, but he was more successful than anyone else.

Charles gave a little chuckle down the phone, "Of course I miss you - you can see, it makes me all tense with you away for so long. I have taken Paul a few times but he is not you. He never will be. You should not care for Sebastian. He has hurt many of your friends. He needs to be doing what you command, without question. It will make it easier for me to train him when you get back with your new job."

Jim sort of shut away his personal feelings and the flirty attitude and gave his honest assessment, “He’s mouthy, but generally obedient. He doesn’t respect me but I think that has more to do with him being close to fifteen years older than me, and able bodied, and generally spending a shocking amount of time listening to only himself considering his previous professions. He’s not going to respond well to brute force, but you probably already worked that much out. He’s soft hearted but I haven’t quite worked out what triggers it.” Jim frowned a little and scowled, “You fucked Paul? Why? You know he doesn’t like you. Do you just do it to torment him?” His tone was more bewildered than anything, Jim wouldn’t want to fuck someone who wasn’t excited and enthusiastic about it. Also it sort of – bothered him. “So I get to fuck your fat friend and no one else while you take a little holiday? I can’t see the fairness in that.” Again Jim was very careful to keep his tone light and non-confrontational even though he was sort of jealous.

"He's been knocked around far too much in his life to respond to anything as crude as force." Magnussen agreed, and gave a little smile into the phone, "Find out for me, Jimmy, find out how to put a chain around Sebastian Moran. It can be a little project for you. " He heard the irritation in Jim's voice and sighed, "Jimmy - you are gone a long time. You know I am not... exclusive. I needed someone for a night. Paul can at least be pleasing when he tries, even if he does whine a lot." He gave a low chuckle as Jim continued, "Some things are not fair, unfortunately. Train your new dog and... find out how to command your current one. When he gets back I want him quiet and trained and obedient. Not sulkily compliant when he has to be. Laurence is easy to keep happy. "

Jim sighed in exasperation, “Dunno… if I had to guess right now I still think your best bet is getting him through sex. He needs more though, a princess in a tower. Give him a whore that doesn’t want to be a whore anymore, that needs his help, and then offer to free the whore if he works for you. Money works too. But you remember when you first brought him into the office it wasn’t the money he was so interested in, he wanted me, that’s what he was fixated on. Give him an alternative. His biggest worry is that you’re just going to tie him down to a bed in the brothel and he’ll end up like the empty eyed whores. Anyway, that’s what I would run with, but I can’t guarantee it would work without actually trying it. You’d have to have the right whore to dangle in front of his face.” He was unhappy that he’d have to see Laurence but he didn’t want to complain too much either. “Do you like thinking about him touching me? With his sweaty sausage fingers and his great bellowing wheezing? Last time when he came I thought he was having a stroke.”

Magnussen thought for a moment, making a humming noise down the phone just so Jim would know he was still attached. "I'm not freeing any of my workers for him. Besides, he doesn't want any of them..." He hesitated, "He wants you." He said eventually. "But I am worried he will hurt you. Could you take him, if we needed it? Take him, get to him, twist him around and make me a perfect obedient fighter out of him? I need someone who is willing to kill for me, to fight for me, to hunt for me, and to die for me. He could be an excellent brawler, but only if he's willing to face up to a fight that might kill him. He will not do that for me." He sighed as Jim mentioned Laurence, "At the moment, Jimmy, the more you complain the more I enjoy thinking about it - how sulky and annoyed it will make you." He snapped. "Don't tell me you have forgotten how to please a man? He wants someone - if I could trust you to control him well enough I'd suggest you give him Moran. A turn as a whore might give him a chance to appreciate how much better a life he is being offered."

“I’m sure he appreciates his position just fine watching me,” Jim snapped back, not appreciating his tone and for refusing to immediately roll over for him. Jim was too opinionated and temperamental to be a perfect pet, but that was why Charles preferred him to Paul. “Right, because Moran’s going to be so keen to have a roll with me when you’ve already told him you’ll cut his cock off if he touches me. And he’s not the only one who’s going to get confused, all you’ve been doing is warning me away from him, and now you want to give me away just so that you can have a fighter when you can easily pay someone to do it. Which one of the two of us is really more valuable to you?”

"James, that is not a question." Magnussen said slowly. "You are. Of course you are. He is a gun and a fist. You are a half of my body and my brain. I do not want to give you away, if you do not want to touch him, to take him, to tease him, and to train him, then you do not have to. You can spend the rest of the holiday ignoring him and I will find someone here to knock him into shape." He gave a little grin at the phone. "I thought you might enjoy it - watching him cum so terrified. Making him want you so much he's willing to lose his cock for it. Playing with him, taking him, even letting him take you. I do not want you to get close to this man. He is dangerous and boorish. But in a few weeks he will be here working for me. You might as well have fun." He hesitated and then said a little sternly. "That is your choice. Laurence is not."

Jim’s temper cooled as Charles reassured him, “I have been getting very very bored here.” See, he had yelled at Mags, had stood up for himself, and he’d gotten his way. He wasn’t being abused, because someone who was as thoroughly kept under thumb as Sebastian seemed to think he was would be feeling very regretful and sorry right about now. Charles’ words made him a little bit hard and Jim reached down lazily between his legs and started to stroke himself. “I might – enjoy it. But you know I don’t like sharing my toys. What if I don’t want to give him up after I’ve had him?”

Magnussen laughed, "Oh? Are you being a naughty boy over there? Stuck on the other end of the phone... ohhh I wish I could see you." His voice dropped lower, while in the room he tugged a piece of paperwork towards him, reading as he spoke. "I wish I was there to take care of it for you. To touch it, touch you, treat my naughty little boy the way he needs. You have your fun with him. But he will come and work for me afterwards."

“Maybe…” Jim drew the word out as he rubbed his thumb over the head and his cock started to swell. He gave a quiet gasp into the phone as Charles continued talking. “You know – if you ever left me for someone else, I’d hurt you.” Jim promised him, goading. He wouldn’t be the scorned lover, quietly tucked away where no one could hear them. “F-fine. You can have Moran. If I like him then I get to keep playing with him after he works for you. Only off duty of course. How else am I supposed to incentivize him to keep working for you? Mmmm…” The water was warm and the friction of his hand felt good as his mind bounced back and forth between fantasies of Moran and Magnussen.

"Now you're being very naught - I don't think you're thinking of me at all hmm?" Magnussen chuckled a little, putting the paperwork down, concentrating, trying to figure out how dangerous this thing with Moran was likely to get, "Are you thinking of a big burly soldier now? Big strong arms and a big broad chest? Picking you up and folding you in half? Funny - you never used to like that. If I think it's fun you can keep having him. If you enjoy using him, enjoy teasing him and breaking him. If you start moping around and pining after him I'll have the both of you whipped and flung in the brothel, hmm?"

“I am,” Jim defended. He wasn’t lying either. “I was thinking about last year when we went to those islands and we fucked on the beach. It was the only time I’ve seen you relax a little bit.” Public sex wasn’t really Mags’ thing unless it was for humiliating Jim or the occasional quickie in a locked men’s room. But that time in the sand had been sort of different from anything else they had done. “I like you and little twinks I can bully, you’re right he’s not my type but I’ll make the sacrifice so you can have your pet soldier. I’m offended,” Jim scoffed. “I don’t _pine._ I’m young but I’m not a teenager.” Jim was twenty and that was a whole year away from being a teenager.

"Would it help to think of Moran as a big twink you can bully?" Magnussen chuckled down the phone, enjoying imagining Jim jerking off at the other end. "I should show you, there's a photograph somewhere, of him as a young man. Blond and proud and posh and beautiful. If only I'd got my hands on him then - all eager and young. It's so much easier to trap them young, hmm?" His forehead creased at the thought of the beach, he hadn't remembered it as anything special, but if Jim wanted to think of it that would do. "You were beautiful all spread out on the sand - too hot for clothes, your hair all caught with the damp." He murmured. "Would you like to go back there, maybe some time?"

“Yes,” Jim gasped as he groaned quietly in the bath as his hand touched himself more enthusiastically. “Ah – if we keep going I won’t have any left for Moran. He’ll be so, ugh, disappointed.” He almost paused when Magnussen talked about trapping someone when they were young but he was pretty caught up in the moment anyway and it was something he was plenty aware of and didn’t like to think about. “I want to go back to the islands. The drinks were great and the sun felt so nice – it’s always dark here. I want to suck you off in the pool again.” Jim knew if he was going to go out and play with Moran he should stop soon or he’d come embarrassingly quickly. That was the thing about youth though, he wasn’t worried about having to get it up again.

"Poor Sebastian Moran." Magnussen said dryly, "I'm sure he'll get over the disappointment. And I'm sure you'll manage. And then when you come back you can get over your silly little crush on him in a tropical island, hmm? We'll have a private chalet, a pool by the sea, I can feed you drinks and you can spend the entire day in a little slip of silk looking beautiful before I fuck you all night long."

“Don’t have a crush,” Jim breathed into the phone and gave himself a few more strokes before reluctantly stopping. “I’m going to bend him over the bed and fuck him, speak now or forever hold your peace. You aren’t allowed to be sore at me later just because you changed your mind.” Jim stood very carefully in the bath, worried about slipping or tripping on the lip of the tub. He didn’t bother with a towel, he just stood there naked and dripping.

"Have fun, Jimmy..." Magnussen smiled and murmured, "Make him scream for me." With that he hung up, happy to let Jim get on with it. He made a mental note though - to keep a very, very close eye on the two of them. He was happy for Jim to have fun, but he didn't want any threat to Jim's loyalty towards him.

Jim felt along for the wall cradle and hung up the phone before feeling for the door and he walked out into the room he shared with Moran, naked and still very wet from his bath with his cock standing proudly. He tried to think of something clever and dominant to say but he was still a little excited and turned on, he couldn’t think of anything and then started to feel self-conscious when he realized for all he knew Moran wasn’t even in the room.

Sebastian was sitting on the floor, after sulking about Laurence and hearing Jim on the phone he's started stretching, at least he could stay vaguely in shape and useful. he looked up as Jim entered the bath flushing and then clearing his throat to let Jim know he was there. "Here. Have a towel. Do you need me to wait outside while you get ready?"

Jim couldn’t help laughing loudly at that. “Huh. What happened to the man that bent Paul over and beat him till he was black and blue? Now you’re going to hand me a towel?” Jim walked in the direction that he’d heard Sebastian’s voice coming from. “I believed that I made you a promise that I would fuck you. Still interested?”

"Stop pissing around." Sebastian dumped a towel over Jim's head, irritated, and very pleased the young man couldn't see him blushing, or that his cock was twitching. "I've no interest in beating you, you're not _that_ annoying beside which I like having functioning limbs. Haven't you got to save up your strength for that fat irritating fuck who barged in at dinner or - let me guess. You told your nice, kind, appreciative, normal _lover_ Mr. Charles Magnussen that you wanted to pass on a _client_ and fuck your bodyguard instead. And he being such a nice considerate man he let you?"

“I’m not pissing around,” Jim’s hand snagged out and he latched onto Sebastian’s arm when he felt the towel shoved over at him. “You think I always do what Charles tells me? Besides, I’ve got plenty of time till I’ve got to see Laurence. This won’t take long, I’m sure.” Jim fumbled his hands for Sebastian’s crotch and wished that he could fucking _see_ him because that would make this easier.

"Wait, _wait_..." Sebastian yelped, not at all ready for Jim to start groping at his crotch, "Fucking - are you trying to get me hurt? What happened, get a stiffie in the bath and now you want someone to take care of it? Fuck _off..."_ He tried to unhook Jim's hand from his arm, flushing as Jim's fingers brushed along his hardening cock.

“Look I know you’re scared but taking a cock isn’t such a difficult thing, but if you’re really that put off then you can do me.” Jim groaned and stopped the groping, but not before he’d gotten a good squeeze in. “Charles doesn’t have a problem with me topping, you aren’t going to get hurt. Don’t you trust me? And don’t bother lying to me and saying you don’t want this.” Sebastian was holding Jim’s hands still by the wrists and Jim pressed his hips insistently towards Sebastian’s rubbing his hip against him like a cat. “Please. I’m so hard… you aren’t just going to leave me like this are you?” Jim whined.

"It's not such a difficult thing for a whore maybe." Sebastian growled back at him, but his hands moved, one wrapping around Jim's waist to press the small of his back, keeping their bodies tight together. The other gently stroked at his thigh, "What is it..." he murmured softly, "An hour ago you barely wanted me in the same room, now you're like a dog in heat. Is it thinking of... that bastard..." he scowled at the thought of Laurence. "I can take him out if you like. Quick knock on the head, or a shot from a rooftop. Easy."

Jim scowled at him a little when he called him a whore again. “I think I’ll put it in your mouth instead.” He let his free hand wander up Sebastian’s chest to his neck and face and finally hooked his thumb in the man’s mouth. He seemed to be warming up at least… he had stopped pushing him away. “Maybe I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you.” Jim tried.

"Oh you think you're getting that choice?" Sebastian scowled, his mouth opening as Jim fish-hooked it, grinding their body's tighter together. "Pull the fucking other one. Something's happened." Sebastian muttered, his tongue swiping over Jim's thumb, his cock hardening further between them, "Mags has shouted at you and you want to get back at him, or you're freaking out at the thought be being a whore again and want a tumble on your own terms first."

“It’s always on my terms,” Jim defended but he smiled as Sebastian sucked on his thumb. “Think whatever you want. Whatever gets you up for it more. I don’t look particularly angry or scared though, do I?” Jim pressed a calf in between Sebastian’s knees, getting him to spread his legs a little. “Are you going to bend over for me or not?”

"I don’t bend over..." Sebastian mumbled around the thumb in his mouth, his mind shot with indecision. What he should do, he knew, was push Jim away, maybe give him a slap, maybe (and back in the day he would've) give him a bit more than a slap then bend him over and take what Jim was so clearly offering. But there was Magnussen to think of and even without Magnussen there was Jim to think of - brittle, uncertain, dangerous Jim. Jim who had sent out Darren and shot Sam. He wasn't afraid of Jim, but he knew enough about what Jim had done to respect his ability to cause damage which, in Seb's language, was respect as a person. His legs pushed apart and he gently pressed his teeth against the thumb in his mouth, "Think you can make me?"

“I don’t have to make you, that’s the beauty of it.” Jim slipped his thumb out of Seb’s mouth but kept it on his bottom lip so that he would know how to bend up and kiss him. Sebastian was already spreading his legs, he had practically begged for it back when Jim was high, had tried not to seem too disappointed, and he wouldn’t be able to resist his own curiosity. “Now I want you to go in my bag, there’s some lube with the rest of my toiletries. I want you to bring it to me, pull down your trousers and then bend over the bed.”

Sebastian stared at him, "It's Mags..." he croaked after a while. "He asked you, didn't he? Asked you to do this. To see whether Sebastian Moran was desperate for cock... fuck you." He shivered but didn't move, his hand stroking up and down Jim's back and fingers sliding low enough to spread over his arse, "That's not what I fucking do." He hissed, low and deep, bending to give a warning little bite to the top of Jim's ear. "'Pull down your trousers and bend over' - who the fuck do you think you are? Darren practically had to beat me unconscious to get that."

“Oh he knows you’re desperate for cock, he pointed it out to me the first day you met in his office while I listened at the door.” Jim shivered with excitement and tension and cold as the water dried on his skin. “You shouldn’t touch if you’re not going to buy it,” He whispered into the skin of Sebastian’s shoulder as the other man’s hands slid over his ass and he bit at his ear. “I don’t want you unconscious – I want you with your trousers down and arse out. Or do you have something else planned?”

"I didn't have any of this _planned,_ you're the one with the fucking plan." Sebastian growled back at him, both hands sliding now to cup at his arse, feeling a little more confident now he was the one with his hands in control. Squeezing two big handfuls he gave a grin, nipping a little more lightly at the bottom of Jim's ear, before flicking his tongue at his neck. "Although I don't know what plan you had to actually get me in that position. You were just going to ask? Really? And you thought I'd fucking jump?"

Jim gasped quietly against Sebastian’s skin while he gripped and squeezed at his ass. If he didn’t try a new tactic he was probably going to end up as the one bent over the nearest surface. Which wasn’t _bad_ but he’d set out with a goal and he wasn’t happy to let Sebastian win. New plan then. “Yeah, I’d like to see you take on someone twice your size while wearing a blindfold. I don’t have to force people, that’s what I have Darren for…” Now. Jim got sort of shifty and bit at his lip. “I’m sorry… I never – intended for him to do that to you. He was just supposed to smack you around a little. I didn’t tell him to hurt you like that.”

"There isn't anyone twice my size." Sebastian grinned, feeling Jim start to melt underneath him, still squeezing and kneeding at the soft tender skin, his fingers starting to dig in a little towards the curve down to Jim's entrance. "Eh - forget Darren. He was a wanker. You would've enjoyed watching it I'm sure, me getting ploughed hard and rough by your trained nonce case. Never apologize for being a violent bastard, not in this profession."

Jim stood there for a long moment and finally said, “ _Watching,_ right. Sitting there and listening to two grown men ambiguously groaning at each other. Very stimulating.” He pressed against him and wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s neck, “Well I’m sorry, but the only way this is happening is with me on top so… I suppose you’ll have to consider how much you actually want me.”

"Little bastard..." Sebastian murmured fondly, smirking a little as he remembered that of course Jim couldn't see. "Hmmm... maybe you could train Darren to describe it to you? And believe me; between him threatening, me swearing, and most of the room getting destroyed it was pretty unambiguous." Putting firm hands under Jim's bottom he lifted him up, pressing the lithe little legs around his waist and carrying him over to the bed. "You really do want to fuck me, don't you? I suppose I should be flattered."

“Please…” Jim taunted him. “You were so disappointed when I couldn’t get hard for you… shit.” He hissed as he was suddenly lifted off the ground and he wrapped his legs around Sebastian reflexively to keep from being dropped. “I’m not a child, you can’t just carry me everywhere.” He whined as Sebastian laid him out on the bed. “So… lube is in my bag. Then I want you to bring it to me, drop your trousers, and bend over.”

"I absolutely can carry you everywhere and I absolutely will." Sebastian growled, bending down and petting the outside of Jim's thigh, the other hand tugging at his hair, "What you don't get to do is give me orders, yeah? You think I'm going to be bossed about by some little shit like you? Now do you want me to fuck you or not?"

Jim held still for a good few moments while Sebastian pet his thigh and eventually decided that it wasn’t worth insisting on topping. He just wanted to get off at this point and didn’t really care how he did it. “Fine, you know the drill. No marks, I have work in a couple days.” Sebastian’s hand was tugging him by the hair and Jim’s breath caught as his cock twitched. “But – ugh, you fuck me the way that I tell you to.”

"Bossy little shit." Sebastian grumbled, the petting moving higher to take over the parts of Jim's body he'd been dying to touch, gently moving down to lick a stripe over Jim's chest, "I don't want to give you any unexpected surprises." He murmured, "So tell me... tell me what I'm going to do. And for fucks sake don't mention your _work_ with that American bastard again, it's a huge fucking turn-off."

Jim rolled his eyes, “Oh I’m _so_ sorry that you have to suffer so much, I’m sorry that it isn’t your kind of wank material. Is that because you knew on any other job it could be you? Ruins the fantasy, doesn’t it?” Jim was trying to rile him up, which upon reflection was not a brilliant idea when he was trying to bring Moran to heel. Jim reached up and brushed his fingertips across Sebastian’s throat. “I think I want to have you on a leash.”

"Shut _up."_ Sebastian glowered, raising his hand and landing something slightly harder than a tap on Jim's thigh. Jim's words though, they send the adrenaline coursing through him, confirming what he'd rather suspected, that Magnussen's plans for him were less than honourable. "Fuck... I'd rather fucking die." He spat, sitting on the bed and then bundling Jim onto his lap, kissing his collarbone and neck. "A leash, yeah? Well Mags'll buy you one. All you have to do is ask. Once you've been a good little kid and spread your legs for his buisiness partner that is..."

“Stop being so dramatic, of course you wouldn’t rather die” Jim scolded him, wincing a little as he slapped his thigh. “And stop jumping to conclusions. I meant that any other job you could be the john, since you are so fond of whores.” Jim ran his fingertips up Sebastian’s chest to his neck and then squeezed there. “I have a leash and collar in my bag. They are just for practice when I go into the school but I think they’d fit nicely on you. Go on bitch, fetch.” Jim traced his fingers up to Sebastian’s cheek and then gave him a little slap because he remembered how riled up that got him.

"Fucker..." Sebastian snapped at him, growling a little as Jim's little hand tightened around his neck and giving a groan as the it slapped along his cheek, "Fucking hell, what am I, your bitch?" Gently, he deposited Jim back into the bed, grabbing at the bag and scowling as he saw the collar inside, as well as the lube and condoms and Jim’s clothes. He dumped the whole bag next to Jim's head and then bent his legs up, folding him in half and smacking his arse, picking up the collar and lead and dumping it next to Jim's head. "Collar, lead, there you go. Little _shit."_

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?” Jim challenged, enjoying the way that Sebastian seemed so disgruntled. “Put the collar on. I wouldn’t want to make it too tight.” Jim took the leash though and gave Sebastian a little slap across the thigh with the handle end. He couldn’t help but groan in excitement as Sebastian bent him in half and left his knees somewhere around his head. “You love this, don’t pretend like you don’t. And so obedient too, even if you’ve changed your mind about telling me fuck you. Shame. I could have showed you what it really feels like.” Jim still had his fingertips on Sebastian’s cheek and he bent forward to lick a stripe up his cheek. The problem was that Jim had learned to top from Magnussen and he unconsciously emulated him.

Sebastian squirmed as the handle of the leash smacked against his thigh, having to concentrate hard to stop it turning him on quite as much as it should. Sighing he took the collar and buckled it on, rolling his eyes, "Well you can't see it but I look like a right prat - which is how you'd expect a grown man in a dog collar to look like." Taking Jim's free hand he gently ran it down to his neck, letting him feel it and smirking as Jim licked a wet patch up his cheek, "Well I'm sure we'll both survive, but the day I bend over on your orders you can fucking stick me in the ground because I'll have no damn pride left."

         “Pride isn’t worth dying for you silly prat. Now fuck me, I’m getting impatient with all your posturing.” Jim felt along the collar material until he found the metal d-ring and clipped the leash there before testing it and giving it a firm yank. “Good. Do you like that? I think it suits you.” Jim reached between Sebastian’s legs to give his clothed cock a grope and a squeeze.

"No I don't like it and no it doesn't suit me." Sebastian grumbled, gasping and arching towards the touch, tugging his trousers down quickly and sliding the lube along his fingers. "You fucker... you know I wouldn't die for it, and you know that is what kills me most of all." His voice was a low rumble as his fingers pressed inside Jim, trying not to think of the next man who'd be doing this. Bending down he gently nipped and licked at Jim's collarbone. "Feel good?"

Jim gasped and wiggled around underneath Sebastian’s body as he pressed fingers inside of him. “Yeah of course having someone’s fingers up your ass feels good.” Jim flushed lightly but nodded, “No it does, I’m just giving you a shitty time. Keep doing that thing with your mouth.” Jim’s neck was sensitive and he did enjoy the attention there. “You are a whiney baby. If I could sew your mouth shut you’d be perfect.” Jim rubbed a thumb along Sebastian’s lips before giving him another tug on the leash. “I love doing that.”

"Of course you love doing it..." Sebastian grumbled, but kept obediently kissing and licking at the skin, occasionally giving a little nibble, sighing that he couldn't leave any worse marks what with Jim's job. "If you could sew my mouth shut you'd have no chance of getting your cock in it." He rumbled against Jim's skin. The leash didn't feel unpleasant, the tugging control on his neck was giving him the shameful, terribly feelings he always tried to hide and he growled against Jim's skin, his free hand moving to press and squeeze at his legs, and then rub at his cock between his legs.

“You’re not really used to doing this, are you?” Sebastian seemed to know intellectually the places to touch and he followed direction but Jim didn’t think he was practiced at trying to make his partners feel good. He lacked finesse. “Are you hard?” Jim asked even though he knew Sebastian was and he gave his crotch a painful squeeze and wouldn’t let go, curious to see what he’d do.

"Y-yes, I’m - ahhh!" Sebastian yelped and wriggled in his grasp as his dick was suddenly caught painfully tight - and seemed to want to respond by getting even harder. "O-oh you little shit - o-ow..." he gasped and squirmed, his hands flailing, occasionally slapping lightly at Jim's legs and the creases of his arse but clearly without wanting to actually let loose and whack him one. "Fucker... t-that... t-that fucking hurts you know. Fuck."

“See, I’m confused because you’re obviously hard – you’re about to jizz your pants so what I don’t understand is why you aren’t inside me yet. Are you always so slow? Because I don’t remember you taking this much time when I was high.” Sebastian’s fingers were still up Jim’s ass and sure it felt fine but Jim hadn’t had sex in weeks and after his little wank in the tub he was feeling incredibly impatient.

"How can I fuck you when you're grabbing my damn cock." Sebastian growled, slapping Jim's hands out of the way and then tugging his legs apart, sliding his fingers out of Jim's arse. "And fucking sue me for trying to get you prepared, should I just go in dry next time? Fuck up that tight little arse the way it so-clearly needs?" He was conflicted now - torn badly between wanting to slap and then fuck Jim till he sobbed and wanting to roll over and let Jim beat him with the leash and the confusion left him vulnerable and not in the best place. Grabbing Jim's arms, he held them above his body, then bit a love-bite into his neck as he thrust his hips forward hard and fast.

“Damn it! What did I tell you?” Jim swore as Sebastian bit down on the skin of his neck. It felt damn good though… and Jim could always buy some women’s make up… Paul was usually the one who helped him apply it but he supposed that would be Sebastian’s job. He gave a struggle against Sebastian’s hands pinning his wrists to the bed, that felt good too – he liked being held down so long as he believed the person holding him down would let him go if he told him to. Jim gave a mix between a groan and a whine as Sebastian finally pressed inside him, hard and fast without enough lube. It was good, so good, and Jim just closed his eyes and moaned unabashed as Sebastian hammered into him hard and fast. “Fuck yes.” Jim gasped as he tugged on the leash. “Don’t you dare stop.”

"Not about to..." Sebastian rumbled back at him, twisting his hands above his head and groaning in relief as he finally got to hammer into the hot little space, reaching down to nibble and lick at Jim's ear as his hips snapped hard back and forward, "Not stopping till you're a fucking mess all over this bed, I'm gonna pound you till you fall apart, till I'm all you can remember." He moved his hands, letting Jim's wrists free but keeping a hand on Jim's chest, keeping him firmly in place and moaning as the collar was tugged, "Fuck you love this don't you - getting fucked by your own personal bodyguard - nice and tight on the leash while I fill you up. Fuck."

Jim groaned and smiled while he held the leash taunt and dragged Sebastian’s face towards his so that he could kiss him. “Yeah I do. And you’d better enjoy this while it lasts—Charles isn’t going to give you the same privileges when you work for him.” Jim loved Sebastian’s voice, loved the way it rumbled and vibrated in his throat and chest, especially when it was rough with arousal. “You are a lucky lucky bastard, getting to fuck me twice. I’d like to see you try to get me to forget everyone else, I’m not sure it can be done.” Jim taunted him, biting Sebastian’s bottom lip.

"Don't think I don't know how lucky I am..." Sebastian rumbled back at him, grinning with lips pressed against his, so that Jim could feel it and moaning loud as Jim latched sharp little teeth into his bottom lip, "G'on... bite through... hot little fucker..." He hissed, grabbing Jim's hips and snapping his own forward harder, "Well... I'll just have to try as _hard_ as I can, hmm?" Jim was hot and firm around him, the pressure taunt on the lead keeping his face close to Jim - one hand now holding his lip while the other wrapped around Jim's hard cock and gave it a firm tug.

Sebastian had gotten better about letting Jim know how he felt, and him smiling against Jim’s lips was just one way he’d started to unconsciously compensate for the lack of viable nonverbal communication. Jim bit hard at Sebastian’s lip like he’d been told and blood burst in his mouth and dripped down his chin, “you’re hardcore.” Jim teased as he kissed Sebastian and used his tongue, sharing that taste of his blood in their mouths. “Keep talking to me. I want to hear your voice. Tell me how good I feel.” Jim was definitely enjoying this and being able to relax for the first time in ages.

Sebastian gave a deep groan at the pain in his lip, licking the excess blood away, his cock thudding inside Jim. He was aware, almost hyperaware, that Jim was missing a sense, and it made things almost hotter trying to compensate with the other senses, to let Jim taste the metallic tang in his mouth, to breath close to his ear, press hands against his skin, "You feel fucking amazing." He rasped, "Tight and hot and just incredible. Got me on a fucking leash, haven't you? Feels like you're tugging me in for each thrust, getting exactly what you need out of me. God Jim..." His body shook and trembled and his head dropped to Jim's shoulder. It felt like Jim was using him, but he wasn't quite prepared to go far enough to say that.

Sebastian felt so so good hammering into him and Jim groaned loudly into his mouth as his cock got a few solid hits on his prostate. “That’s – you’re – fuck.” It was pretty rare that Jim went speechless, even when he was having sex. “You better fucking bet I’m incredible. How many whores have you fucked that could do it in this position for long?” Jim’s knees were on either side of his head now, he was really bent in an uncomfortable position but he did stretch to keep flexible. “That’s exactly what this is, me getting what I need from you. I don’t care if you get off.” Jim suddenly changed the direction he was pulling the leash and started to choke Sebastian lightly with it. “How about you don’t get a proper breath until you make me come?”

"You aren't a whore..." Sebastian muttered into his skin, then nipped it gently. He groaned as Jim tugged the leash, seeing what he was trying to do and reaching up to adjust the collar to that the lead could actually pull and, if not tighten it, then wrap around it and restrict his airflow a little. "You'll kill me. Fucking yes. Not till you cum... I take it I'm not allowed to cum myself?" He bent down, helping Jim to wind the leash around his hand, showing him the tug to tighten it and then murmuring low into Jim's ear. "You know what that'll do to me? Leaving me hard and desperate, choking on my own breath, fucking _needing_ to cum? 'S a pity you'll have already spent yourself because in that kind of state... well... who knows what I'd agree too..." Putting his hands back onto Jim's arse he held tight and then started hammering down in hard rough uncompromising thrusts.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Jim warned him as Sebastian helped him to get a better grip on the leash and collar. “I’m young, I can get it up again for you, old man.” Jim taunted him but then his thinking and general brain function was severely compromised as Sebastian picked him up by the hips and pounded into him hard. Jim didn’t try and keep his noises quiet, he had to expressed himself in any way he could and Jim dug his fingernails of his free hand into Sebastian’s arm and dragged marks over them. “I –I – ah oh fuck. I am going to fuck you s-so hard after and you’re going to be such a slut for it when you oh oh oh… when you know how good this can feel. Don’t come.” Jim tightened his hold on the leash and pulled up so the collar dug in under Sebastian’s jaw.

"Not about to..." Sebastian managed to gasp, but even that took up too much breath. His blood was pounding now, pounding through his cock and behind his eyes and Jim was completely in charge and everything was crystalising around him. He couldn't _breathe,_ he needed more air, and the physical struggle to drag it into his lungs made the muscles in his legs scream. He didn't let up though, slamming into Jim non-stop, gasping and whimpering, hands digging into Jim's arse and leaving nail-marks as the fingernails raked down his body causing sparking lines.

Jim was fully present in his body and the sensations he was feeling, everything was so overwhelming and good and Sebastian hit his prostate more times than not and Jim finally came all over his own stomach without anyone even touching his cock while he moaned obscenely, panting and finally letting Sebastian take a breath. “Don’t come. Don’t come. Squeeze your cock if you have to. Give me a minute.” Jim was a shuddering shivering mess and he panted for breath as he ran his hands over Sebastian’s sweaty skin.

Sebastian gave a gasp as the tight muscles convulsed around his cock, wanting nothing more than to rip the collar off and plough Jim till he came inside him. Instead he tugged his cock out, gasped and swore, slapped Jim hard on the arse and then collapsed over the bed, grabbing the lead and keeping it tugged tight. The rush in his ears helped a little, concentrating on breathing stopped him from losing control, even if he was now slumped over a bed half-choking himself with a small Irish prostitute stroking his body. He closed his eyes and then finally mumbled, "Go on then. Do it. Just... do it."

“I’m not going to fuck you, don’t worry. I can’t get it up _that_ fast. Still, you’ll enjoy this. If you can come from just my tongue then you will absolutely love it when I fuck you later.” Jim’s hands wandered over Sebastian’s body, from his shoulders to his back and finally to his ass. He wanted to curl up and sleep after his orgasm but he also wanted to get Sebastian off. “I should just leave you there, leash tied to the bed.” He gave Sebastian’s ass a slap in retaliation for hitting him and told him, “Don’t touch your cock. I want all your pleasure to come from me.” Jim kneaded and squeezed at his muscular ass, getting to know it better since he couldn’t see it with his eyes. After a few moments Jim pressed his face between his cheeks and licked a long line from the back of his balls all the way to the top of his ass, briefly pausing to dip his tongue inside him for just a second before continuing on. Then he took a breath and blew cold air over the area where he’d just licked.

Sebastian dropped the lead and gave a tired growl, feeling his muscles shuddering in protest as he sucked air in greedily. He hissed as Jim slapped him, listening to Jim's words and giving another little whimper. He wasn't getting fucked. Again. Each time he built it up as an impossible barrier to surmount and each time Jim just carelessly knocked it aside. He felt tears pricking in his eyes, slumped over the bed with his arse up suddenly very glad that Jim couldn't see. Closing his eyes he gave a long moan as Jim's hands got to work, squeezing and rubbing at sore muscle and then there was a long wet line that had him arching off the bed. When it teased down inside him he gave a little eager mew, locking his arms behind his back so that he couldn't touch himself and so that Jim could easily feel he wasn't touching himself. "Y-you keep turning it down eventually I'll stop fucking offering." He murmured gently into the sheet, his throat raw from trying to breathe.

Jim slapped his ass again, “I told you to get on the fucking bed, you told me you didn’t want to. It’s not my fault that you can’t make up your mind and I can’t instantly get another erection. I promise I’ll pop your cherry before we go back to London.” Jim couldn’t really do this and talk at the same time so he spread Sebastian’s cheeks and pressed his tongue inside, working it in and out and then giving him a few twirls of his tongue, since Sebastian seemed to be into this.

Sebastian jumped at the slap, flushing and scowling, "I didn't say I didn't _want_ to, I said I wasn't doing it just on the orders of some cocky little fucker who - shitttt..." The tongue slid back down to his arse and he gave a surprisingly high squeal and jumped, face flushed and hair mussed up as Jim's tongue set shivers up his spine. God it felt fantastic, it should've felt dirty, but it didn't, it just felt teasing and hot and incredible, and his cock was hard and wet against the sheets, his body starting to hump them for friction.

He didn’t bother telling Sebastian he wasn’t allowed to rub one off against the sheets, no point. Jim hoped he’d be coming soon anyway. “You’re close right? You were close when you were inside me.” Jim gave a short tug on the leash from behind Sebastian, choking him, and then giving a longer, sustained pull. He grinned when Sebastian squealed and wiggled, “I’m not you. If you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to ask me for it. After I have a nap.” Jim scratched long lines over Sebastian’s back, ones that would fade by morning.

Sebastian moaned and arched, choaking against the lead and giving a gasping sob "F-fucking please... 'sthat what you want? Want me to beg, just get something the _fuck_ inside me alright?" Another sob and his nails dug into the side of his arms, hips humping harder at the sheets, and suddenly the thought that Jim might be fucking another man by the end of the week wasn't just saddening, it was impossible, filling him with a possessive rage that made him groan with despair. he couldn't fall for Jim. Not now, not ever, certainly not with Magnussen around.

Jim had no idea where the lube was so he stuck a finger in his mouth, sucked on it and got it wet enough that he hoped it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable and slowly worked that finger inside of Sebastian. He wanted to be able to do this properly—show him that not all sex with like Darren, but he would have to settle for this little teaser. Sebastian’s reactions had Jim feeling so hot and he moaned in response as he felt that tight heat and pulled at the leash.

Sebastian groaned, gasped, whimpered again and then came, with Jim's finger pressed inside him and Jim's other hand tugging at the lead. For a moment it felt so good to let go, to have nothing in the world at all but blissful emptiness - someone else holding the lead, someone else filling him up, and all he had to do was let it wash over him. He came in a shuddering mess all over the sheets, collapsing down, tugging fretfully against the lead and feeling himself tear up again as he did so. Fuck he was a mess. Completely broken apart - and he knew it was a final delayed reaction to the loss of his job, the danger he was in, and the humiliation of working for Magnussen as his favourite whore's guide-dog. "Fuck…" he muttered, hoping desperately Jim couldn't tell how shaken he was.

Jim grinned as Sebastian came but he frowned when he heard the tension and emotion in his voice. “Hey…” Jim got back on the bed and pulled Sebastian’s head into his lap so that he could stroke his hair. It was silly, but he did it for Paul when he got emotional and fragile after sex. “You’re alright. The thing about having someone else in charge and making decisions means that you have someone to protect you too.”

"I don’t need someone to fucking protect me." Sebastian snarled, rearing up and flinging Jim down, hands wrapped around his neck, snarling at him, desperately trying not to cry, "What the fuck are you doing to me - I don't need someone _in charge_ and I damn well don't need protecting because I - fuck..." his hands were shaking and he let go of Jim, sitting back on the bed and then with a sigh letting himself tumble off it, lying on the floor in a heap and then saying softly. "I'm on the floor, I'm not angry, I'm not about to jump on you again. I'll - I'll stay down here. Fucking ..." he undid the collar and threw it into the corner, burying his face in his hands. After a brief moment of silence he finally muttered, "C'n you stroke my hair again? I - s'fine if you don't want to I just... 'm a bit fucked up Jim. I don't want that man to fuck you."

Jim gasped in shock as Sebastian’s hands wrapped around his throat and for a few moments he was choking and sputtering and all he could think was that his dad was going to kill him – but it was Sebastian and he let go after yelling at him. His hands were shaking. Jim locked down on the sudden fear that had taken over and he refused to be cowed or let that show. He quietly gasped for air and heard the metal buckle of the collar land in the far corner of the room. Jim finally nodded and croaked, “Yeah… come back to bed and I’ll do it.” Jim leaned back against the headboard and the pillows, leaving a place in his lap for Sebastian to put his head. “It’s okay. Why don’t you want him to fuck me? It doesn’t hurt you, and he’s pretty gentle.”

Sebastian stared at the bed for a long while, feeling that he definitely didn't deserve to be allowed back on it, before he scrambled up, putting his head in Jim's lap with a mumbled, "Thanks." he was happy to stay still for a bit, waiting for his body to stop shaking, before he stretched out and gave a little half-smile, "Heh. Well that was fucking embarrassing. I promise you, I usually don't scream and strangle people after sex. I don't want him to fuck you because you don't want to fuck him. If you had a choice you wouldn't. I want to punch his teeth in for daring to even think he can use you. You shouldn't _be_ used."

Jim shrugged as he petted at Sebastian’s hair, “’S fine. I should have asked you first. I do this for Paul all the time, I didn’t really think about how you’d react.” He was glad that Sebastian was settling down though. “Everyone is used for their labor, it’s just that my labor is sex in this case. I’ll be paid very very well, how about I take you out to eat after, hmm?” Jim didn’t know if he should bring up the fact that Sebastian was basically going to have to listen at the door or if he’d already worked that out.

"He's not using you for your labour - he's using you as a fucking commodity." Sebastian mumbled back. "He's not thinking 'here is a person providing me with sex' he's thinking 'oh look it's my sex toy'. Completely different. Do whatever you want after, whatever you need yeah?" He knew he'd have to listen, to stand outside the door as Laurence hurt his Jim and he gave a sigh, rubbing his hands over his eyes, "You better have got fucking good at ordering me by then, because otherwise I'm going to barrel through the door as soon as he lays a finger on you and twist that finger off."

Jim ran his fingers through his own hair, trying to tame it and his thoughts. “It doesn’t matter what they think, what matters is what I think and what the reality is. It is labor, it’s a skilled labor that yeah maybe I’d rather not do but I’m being paid and I’m making the decision to do it. I could say no, but I know it’s in my best interest not to.” Jim wouldn’t _need_ to do anything. “You know this isn’t rape right? This isn’t like what happened with you and Darren. It’s not like what I do with Paul or – you, or Mags either, it’s somewhere in between but I think you are underestimating me.” Jim would be fine. He was in control. “You’ll do as you’re told because your desire to live is too strong and you know he’ll kill you slowly if you fuck up this deal.”

"You don't have any idea what happened with me and Darren." Sebastian sighed, closing his eyes and sounding resigned. "Darren's one of Mags's boys. We've got a whole list of them in the station. He's been in the cells a few times. We've had fights a few times. More than a few times. Sometimes I win. Sometimes he does. It was him doing it on your fucking orders I didn't like." Reaching up he gently patted Jim's cheek. "I know it's not rape. But I know it's not right. I know you can handle it and take it - but that doesn't mean you should have to, and it doesn't mean I want to listen to you doing it."

Jim sort of closed his eyes, reaching up to take Sebastian’s hand away from his face but he twisted their fingers together and held onto his hand. “Yeah well… I told you I didn’t tell him to do that. He got creative.” Jim smiled and let the subject drop, “You’re going to let me know if I sound fake, right? It’s been a while since I had to fake it, but I think there are some things you don’t forget how to do. Just make sure he doesn’t murder me and hide my body under the bed.”

"He was there, he was fighting me, s'like Pavlov's bloody dog, yeah? He was repeating a well-worn pattern and the fucker enjoyed himself - at least one of us usually does." Sebastian gave a tired sigh and managed a small grin. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you'll do it well. Tell you what, if I'm going to listen I might as well be useful. I don't know what that fucker wants with you, but it might be something less than savoury and he might want you making all sorts of noises, yeah? I don't want to run in there with all guns blazing to find you keeping the fucker happy by play-acting. ‘Jesus Christ’ - alright? If it gets too much break that particular one out, and as soon as I hear it I'll storm into the room and break his legs."

“My catholic mother would kill me,” Jim agreed with a nod and a smile. “Don’t break his legs though. Just subdue him without hurting him too much. Charles will be very angry if you take that decision into your own hands without knowing what he wants to do with him.” Jim sighed and continued to stroke Sebastian’s hair but he scooted down the bed so that he could curl up against Sebastian’s side instead. “I don’t like not sharing a bed with someone, it feels strange after all this time being with someone and I can’t tell when someone’s in the room. Share my bed.”

"Yeah, yeah I won't break anything. I used to be a cop, remember? I know how to do damage that won't show." Sebastian wrapped his arms around Jim, tugging him close and gently petting him, "Course I will. I mean... I might as well. Seeing as... yeah." Softly, he kissed the top of Jim's head.

The best course of action would be to not stop the proceedings, even if Jim got in over his head… he would have to fix it himself because Charles wouldn’t give a rat’s if Jim got a couple bruises as long as it didn’t jeopardize his relationship with Laurence, and Sebastian storming in like an avenging angel would definitely jeopardize the relationship. “Are you always this eloquent after you come?” Jim asked snidely, secretly enjoying the petting but he felt he had to save face somehow.

"Nah. Usually give the lad a slap and fall asleep." Sebastian murmured, "But this evening really isn't what I do usually anyway." He smiled and then petted Jim again, "Get to sleep- I don't want to have to take over if you fall asleep, and you'll be busy with the dog tomorrow."

Jim yawned and didn’t bother to cover his mouth, he just rubbed his cheek against Sebastian’s shoulder. “Alright _mum._ G’night.” He gave Sebastian’s stomach a little pat and wrapped a leg around him as he closed his eyes and evened out his breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Pimpy behavior? Misuse of dog training equipment?


End file.
